Unforgivable
by FantasyFreedom
Summary: [Liley] I feel sick- sick to have these thoughts, these feelings. I'm no saint, not by a long shot, but this is too much, she's too innocent. She's not just some other girl that I flirt with, she's more than that, she means more than that. I am Eve and she is the fruit I should not eat... But just like Eve, I so want to and I fear that I will commit that unforgivable sin. AU
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my first multi-chapter Hannah Montana fanfiction, I hope you like it. Updates will be up once a week.**

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_Life sucks, and then you die- Stephenie Meyer_

_In life, there are no fairy tales; no happy endings. Not without a price at least. There can't be happiness without sacrifice, but do you really get your happiness if you had to sacrifice something so much more?_

_No. Joy in life is short lived; it never lasts. Reality comes crashing down, and then where are you? In a sucky screwed up life._

_Life sucks, and then you die._

_I knew someone who knew that all too well._

_Sincerely not yours,_

_-Scotty_

Sitting on the porch steps and letting out a puff of breath, you couldn't tell between the smoke and the fog. Leaning back and resting my head against the rail, I look out at the grey morning sky.

It's early. I love this time of day, though I hate having to be awake to see it. It's my favorite time, along with the evening; the change from night to day, day to night. To me it stands for new beginnings. Another day lived and lost in this life.

But I also love the night, the endless black abyss. I love the bone chilling feeling of being wrapped in darkness like you can finally breathe after choking and gasping for so long in the sun.

At night I'm alone, no one to bother me, to disturb me or my thoughts.

It's both a sacred time, and nightmarish of what my thoughts bring.

Then comes the dawn of morning, a new day, new tortures, just as frigid.

I flick my cigarette into the grass as it comes to a stump and let out a deep lungful sigh. The smoke exits my lungs along with the steam of my breath, a light buzz already starting in my veins and making me ready to face this day's horrors.

I have time to suck in one last breath before an old beat-up car screeches to a halt in front of the house. The window rolls down with a groan of protest.

"Let's go Truscott, hell awaits!"

With another puff of air, no smoke remaining in the fog, I push myself to my feet. My back pops pleasantly as I lean down to snatch up my book bag, empty and tattered as it is.

"Hey Boo." I drawl as I sink into the stale seat cushions on the passenger side.

"Hey baby." He grins to which I return without hesitation.

"Dork."

"Bitch."

"Bastard."

"Whore."

"Hey." I say lifting my hands in mock defense. "I let them believe what they want to believe."

He cracks another smile.

About ten seconds later, I start drumming my fingers on my thigh, too impatient to be sitting still.

"So have you written an entry yet?" I ask, just for a distraction.

He snorts. "Just some bullshit about how happy go lucky I am. Nothing real. What did you write, something to piss him off?"

I shake my head with a smirk. "He wants the truth? Well I'm gonna be brutally honest."

"Careful Lils." He says, not taking his eyes from the road as we pull into the school parking lot. "With one look inside that pretty little head of yours, you might petrify the old man."

"Yeah, well..."

The out side of the school looks a lot like a high max security prison, baby proofed.

A high chain link fence runs around the perimeter of the learning facility and once the gates close behind you, they don't open back up until the final bell.

They even have a police officer stationed in front of the school that does a circuit every five minutes.

It may look tightly run, but if you do your homework (homework of the real world), and learn the routines of officer Charles Miller, you can slip out without being noticed.

"Hey Charlie." I wave to him as we pass and he gives a slight wave in return.

See, we have formed a kind of bond after the first few times he had to pull me off a dick headed kid who had pissed me off.

The inside of the school looks more like a wasteland flooded to the brink with a bunch of hormonal teenagers.

The tiles that were once white are a pale yellow, and in some spots, red from blood that the janitor had forgotten to clean up.

The puke green walls are mostly hidden by the newest thing in this school. The lockers.

Even those get stuck sometimes and if you hit it in the right spots, it springs open freely on its hinges.

Oliver had taken the liberty to find and memorize the soft spots of every locker in our hall. Me, well I only learned the ones that benefit me the most.

I snap a quick jab at the bottom right of my locker and the door pops right open. I really does save a lot of time.

I look over all the stacks of books I was supposed to take home over the weekend for homework and then just shove the first and second period books into my bag.

I'll do them when I get to class.

I never do homework, I never study, and I rarely pay attention in my classes. Yet somehow, I keep up A's and B's. I think that's why I don't get in as much trouble as I could when I do.

I'm not a bad kid, or a bad person; I just don't care enough to pretend to be the perfect child.

I walk past all the litter on the disgusting tile and past the overflowing trashcans, to my first period Biology class.

Staring at nothing and going into a trance-like state throughout the period gives me a sense on nothingness. Time has no meaning as silent stories all play out in my head. I sound each word in my head as if reading it from a book, but creating different situations and choosing the best way to carry it out.

All these stories unfolding in my mind but never to be written down because as soon as I think it, it dissolves, never to be distinguished from my smeared thoughts.

If I do not have a pen to paper right then, the idea will disappear, never perfectly right as the first time it passes through, therefore, not worth being printed onto paper.

If every thought that passes through my head were to be scribbled down, it would be a chaotic mess and jumble of words. There would hundreds of stories playing out hundreds of different ways. If this happens, then that would happen, but if it happen this way, then this would happen instead.

Then the bell's shrill ring bursts though the speakers and the words on the paper would flat line. My mind goes blank as I jerk my bag onto my shoulder and exit the door before the signal goes silent.

I would flop into my seat in the next class and my mind would start up as if it never stopped.

It's like the equation pi- always going on, never a pattern or repeats; it's always confusing and impossible to comprehend or understand...

Then other days, like today, I can't find that distraction so I just stare blankly as my mind reels and fights for something to think about to speed time on its marry way.

I tap my pen in time with my foot in an annoying sort of way and the teacher constantly shoots me grumpy glares that slip right over my head.

The way I see it is, if I have to put up with you, you can damn well try to put up with me. I give my superior smirk to anyone that feels the need to look my way.

My chair jolts back and almost topples over as I spring to my feet as the bell rings, and fight my way to the door.

When I burst out of the room, my shoulders release the tension they previously held and I let out a sigh of relief. I was starting to get claustrophobic being cooped up in there with nothing to distract me but the tapping of my pen that was even starting to drive _me_ nuts.

I take my time walking to the next class, debating on weather or not to ditch, or stick it out.

Ditch.

I grin as I pull my backpack straps tighter and slip a blank note into Oliver's locker. He knows that when I do that, to not bother looking for me in the school.

As the tardy bell rings, I crouch by the front doors as I wait for Charlie to make his rounds. It's not the best way to sneak out, but it's the easiest,-

I make a dash for the chink in the fence as he disappears around the corner and I'm just touching the cold metal when a hand is laid on my shoulder.

-unless you get caught.

I sigh as I look up at the uniformed face.

"How'd you know?"

"I guess I have developed a Lily radar." At my quizzical look, he smiles. "It's Monday; I figured you would try to escape." I note that he says 'escape' like this place really _is_ a prison.

I nod with a slight 'ah' expression. "You sure you don't want to just look the other way this time and say you didn't see me? I mean, it's not like it doesn't happen all the time."

He shakes his head, an amused smile still splayed across his face. "Sorry Lily, rules are rules."

"No." I gasp. 'is that what they are? And to think that all this time I thought they were just those doughnuts that you cops are always shoving down your throats."

He playfully rolls his eyes. See, this is why he is the only cop that I like. He's not all emotionless and controlling, even though he does seem to bust me a lot more than others.

"Principal's." He says with a light push in the school's direction.

I sigh and give my cocky smirk as I mock solute him on my way back in the old doors.

I drag my feet in the empty corridors, taking up as much time as I can in the halls, picking up random pieces of trash that I pass and shoving them as much as I can in the bins it's supposed to go in.

Finally I arrive in the office dragging my backpack along the ground.

"Hello Janis." I greet as I throw my bag next to an empty seat.

"Hey Lily, how are you today?"

"Amazing now that I got to see your beautiful face." I say as I drag my finger along the young secretary's cheek.

"Yes well, why don't you go sit down? He is meeting with someone at the moment." She brushes off my hand with an amused smile.

I gasp. " Mr. Luger is cheating on me? He's seeing someone else?" I feel fake tears well in my eyes.

"You should totally dump him and never come back here." She plays along good-naturedly.

I suddenly become serious. "I believe that you just gave me permission to leave."

"Go sit down." She scowls, a reaction I get a lot with adults. "I have a lot of paper work to finish."

"Maybe I could help you relax? All you have to do is ask." I raise a suggestive brow to go with the suggestive phrase causing her to turn a dark shade of red.

"Miss. Truscott," she says using my last name for the first time this meet, "that is completely inappropriate for school."

"Oh, so what your saying is... if we were out side of school-"

"No! In or out of school, I will not sleep with you!"

The door to the principal's room opens with a red faced Mr. Luger. I have to bite my lip hard to keep from bursting out into a fit of giggles.

_This is just perfect!_

"Mrs. Darcy." He says. Janis's eyes are set wide with a gaping mouth and pink cheeks.

"S-she-"

"I only said that maybe she should relax. You know, with all the paper work she has to do." I give my innocent smile though I bet that my eyes dance with mischief.

The principal sighs. "Mrs. Darcy, please refrain from saying such things on school grounds. And I am aware of Miss. Truscott's reputation, no need for explanations."

I blow a kiss at him and throw a wink at Janis.

He turns to someone in his office and speaks a few quiet words. Then he opens it wider and a girl walks out. A pretty girl with long brown hair, old worn jeans, and a tight T that hugs her curves loosely.

"Awe, you were cheating on me again, weren't you Lugar-bear?" I turn to the girl and give big innocent eyes and a solemn expression. "Don't get too serious with him, he'll cheat whenever the next pretty face comes along."

Her eyes are wide and scared; her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. What I first thought where green eyes are actually a crystal blue and I don't know how I could have gotten the color wrong.

Suddenly my breath leaves me, the intensity of her eyes sucking all the air from my lungs, leaving me struggling to draw a single intake of breath.

"Oh no you don't." The principal growls and grabs my arm almost painfully. That seems to snap out of my momentary loss of sanity. "You should stay away from this one, she's just trouble _not_ waiting to happen."

"He's so rough with me." I pout. "Can't you be a little gentler?" I give my most innocuous eyes while enjoying every moment on the inside.

Now everyone in the room's face is shining bright red, all for different reasons.

"Lillian." He growls and points to his office.

"But Mr. Luger, you said we couldn't do this anymore." I turn away and make my eyes glimmer with tears. "Plus, you're so mean."

"Stop making the things I do or say sound sexual!" It's _really_ hard not to laugh.

"I'm just saying things how they are, you can take it any way you want. Mr. Luger, you have a very dirty mind. I'm flattered and all, but I'm a little young for you, don't you think?"

I give one last grin at the scared blue-eyed girl, and calmly walk into the musty smelling office.

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**Thanks for reading, please leave a review.**

**-Fantasy**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, here you go. I hope you enjoy.**

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_The hardest prison to escape is your mind- unknown_

_I have all these stories that unfold in my mind, but all stories have a figment of truth hidden somewhere deep in the words. My writing centers around agony and death and despair._

_Depressing right?_

_I can never escape the horrors of my past, a past that everyone knows about, yet has not even the slightest idea._

_They think that just because they know the outline of what happened, that they suddenly know me, but they _weren't there_. They have no fucking _idea_ of the scars that that can leave on a person._

_You can't escape it because you can escape your own mind; it holds you hostage until the bars are built up and you're stuck in your own personal prison of hell. Your only companion is your memories that you try desperately to get away from and your thoughts that are your cell mates._

_You wanted to know,_

_-Scotty_

The chill doesn't effect me as I skate to school in my thin hoodie. It's little protection against the frigid wind, yet I revel in the cold, let it seep deep into my bones.

I force my beanie down harder on my head as it starts to ride up my scalp and into my helmet.

Though my bangs are set messily over my eyes, it's easy for me to see as I come riding through the school gates and jump a bench on my board.

The crowd of students part warily as I roll my way through the halls and stop at my locker.

I tap my locker and it springs open as I shove my skate into the small space. Then I lean against it as I wait for my best friend to make his appearance.

Which he does a moment later with, surprisingly, a girl by his side. I recognize her as the one from the office the day before.

I laugh because she looks absolutely terrified when she sees me.

"Hey Lilly." Oliver greets." "So how'd it go yesterday?"

I turn to my friend with a sigh. "Not so good. Apparently I always decide to ditch on Mondays."

"...Well you do."

"Yeah, I know that, and you know that; it doesn't mean that Charlie has to figure it out."

"Was it bad?"

"I probably made it worse than it could have been." I smirk.

"Oh god, please tell me you did not flirt with the secretary in front of him." He begs and I just give him a look. "You flirted with the _principal_?" He then shakes his head and gives an exasperated sigh.

"I can't help myself, it's just too funny."

Oliver suddenly remembers the girl standing awkwardly to his left, and grins. "Oh Lilly, this is Miley, Miley, Lilly."

I take her offered hand and kiss it in a sweeping bow. "Milady."

She blushes when I look up into her eyes but confusion sweeps through me as I see that her eyes are a timid green.

"I thought they where blue." I mumble to myself as I straighten up. A hand slaps me in the stomach and I turn my surprised look to Oliver.

"You can't flirt with her. I would like to have another friend other than you some day."

"Alright fine." I raise my hands in surrender. "I will be on my best behavior. Promise."

"What reputation was Mr. Luger talking about?" Miley asks curiously.

I rake my eyes over her and once again notice how pretty she is.

The warning bell rings and the kids start to depart for first period. "Ask around, anybody would just love to tell you my life story. Just don't believe everything you hear."

Then I turn and walk to class with both people staring after me.

It's another day where I can't get lost in my stories, and instead, conflicting eyes flash across my brain.

Blue, green, blue, green, blue, blue, green, blue. What color are they, or what color will they be when I see her again?

I have a pen to paper but instead of words, pictures appear. Instead of the frantic chicken scrawl rushing to keep pace with my thoughts, my hand moves carefully, forming the shapes and lines delicately.

When my hands set down the pen, eyes stare back at me; at least ten border the page, sculpted with care, all different shades yet they are all the same.

For some reason her eyes captured me, mesmerized me.

Are they blue or green? Something urges me to find out.

So when lunch rolls around, I eagerly find my empty seat in the cafeteria with my tray of slop. Minutes later, Miley appears, nervous and hesitant to take a seat.

"Sit." I encourage with a wave of my hand, and she does. "You know my rep." I state.

She nods making me grin.

Her eyes are blue _and_ green, I decide. Right now, they are a pale nervous blue.

"You have very pretty eyes." I say and shake my head when she blushes. "I'm not flirting, I promised I wouldn't, it's just a statement. At first I thought they were green, then they were blue so I thought they were that. Then they were green again and now they're blue again. Mood eyes." I mumble the last part more to myself, though I'm sure she heard it. "They're pretty." I say again in a much more normal voice and sit forward in my chair to start eating my lunch.

This just seems to make her blush more.

"So tell me about yourself." I say as Oliver takes a seat beside me.

"Um... Well, I moved here from Tennessee."

"That explains the accent." I see her start to look uncomfortable so I quickly add, "Don't worry, it's cute."

I feel something hit me in the shins and I turn a glare to my best friend. "I wasn't flirting." I growl at him and send my foot back in his direction.

His knees slam into the table as my foot makes contact with his leg.

I turn back to Miley. "So what's your favorite color?"

"Green." She immediately says.

"Food?"

"My dad's homemade flapjacks."

I finish my lunch and push the tray away from me as I lean back in my chair.

"Hobbies?"

"I play the guitar and sing a little."

"Cool, maybe I can write a song for you to sing for me." Again my cocky smirk makes its way to my lips before I quickly wipe it off. "Sorry; habit."

She nods, a little more confident than before, her eyes shining a darker blue with green ringing around the pupil.

"It's fine." Then she leans forward into the table. "But what about you? Tell me something that only Oliver knows."

I contemplate that for a moment, wondering if I should revel anything to this particular stranger.

I stand up because the bell is about to ring, and walk towards the door, only to stop at Miley's chair to dip my head low and let my lips brush her earlobe.

I speak in a low murmur so there is no chance of anyone else overhearing.

"Despite what you may hear, that I have slept with over half the school, I'm still a virgin. No one has touched me. They are all lies and your welcome to check for yourself any time." I hesitate before straightening up. "And I'm not flirting."

Then I give her my signature smirk and exit the doors just as the bell rings, her shocked expression burned into my eyelids.

Of course the effect would have been better if she didn't have the next class with me and Oliver, but I make do.

To my somewhat disappointment, over the next two weeks she stops flinching every time I touch her face's main color stops being red. Only when my compliments are genuine do her cheeks flush a light pink.

Her eyes I notice, have a wide range of blue and green shades and I find myself looking into them to gage her emotions to different things.

She looks at Oliver with a warm friendly blue but me with an unsure blue-green. When she's teased, made fun of or even flirted with, she shies away with a soupy green. After that one instance, I took it upon myself to make sure everyone knew that she was with me and therefore, not to be messed with.

After a boy was sent to the nurse for touching her a little too intimately, word spread quickly that she was _my_ girl. Lilly Truscott's first real relationship that doesn't consist of a one-night stand.

Of course I have never had a one-night stand, but I let them believe what they want. I'm not even sure where the rumor that I was sleeping around came from, actually I do, but I encouraged it.

Miley stuck to me a little closer, appreciating the protection I give, and not caring about what words pass other's lips.

In just those two weeks, she's accomplished the one thing that only one other has been able to do. Become my friend.

My flirting became so obviously playful that even Oliver had stopped pestering me about it. It also helped that she hadn't been scared away yet.

"So want to come over to my house today?" She asks as we walk out the school shoulder to shoulder some Friday weeks later.

I raise my eyebrows and wiggle them up and down suggestively. "Will your father be home, because it he will be, I can find a way to keep you quiet while you're screaming my name."

She rolls her eyes, not even fazed anymore.

"Yes he will be home, and so will my wonderful dwarf of a brother."

I grin.

"Sure. Older or younger?" I ask.

"Older."

My smile becomes a little less real as a tare pulls at a jaggedly healing wound in my chest.

"Sweet, we should totally pull some pranks on him."

"Oh no, if you do that he will go after me, even if I had nothing to do with it."

"Darn."

We fall into a comfortable silence as I state behind her, allowing her to show me the way until we stop at a fairly large house about three blocks down from my own.

She opens the door for me and I roll right in, stopping just inside the threshold to step off my board and set my book bag to the side.

"Nice." I comment as I glance around the homey looking room.

She shuts the door behind her and walks toward a man standing in the kitchen.

"Hey daddy, this is Lily."

"Hey bud. The girl you've been talking about?"

"Yup, she's the one."

My head starts to buzz as Mr. Stewart makes his way from around the bar and closer to me.

His hand stretches out and bewilderingly, in an old memory, an old reaction, I stumble backward flinching. Only after do I realize what I did and mentally kick myself.

I'm strong now, I don't flinch, I stand tall and fight back... Plus, he's not here, he's dead. I straighten up quickly and take his outstretched hand.

"Sorry." I laugh a little, successfully easing his quizzical expression the slightest bit. But not Miley's.

"Why don't you girls head upstairs; dinner will be ready in a few hours." He steps back around the counter to continue throwing spices into a pot.

Miley grabs my wrist and pulls me up to her room

"So what was that back there?"

"What was what?" I ask with a smooth air.

"You know what."

I just stare at her with a blank look, her eyes a calculating green rimmed with light blue. She holds my gaze for a few moments before relenting. "Fine, what do you want to do?"

"How about who?" I wriggle my eyebrows and she just rolls her eyes.

"You never stop do you?" She has a slight smile so I know that she's not annoyed yet.

"I can go all night."

"Oh my god." She groans and leans back on her bed. Is it just my eyes playing tricks on me, or does she have a slight flush to her cheeks?

Her dad calls us down about two hours later of us just talking.

"Oh my god, this spaghetti is amazing!" I exclaim though a mouthful of noodles and sauce.

"Well it's good that someone here appreciates my cooking." He says with a pointed look at Jackson, Miley's brother, who is already halfway through his bowl. His comment though, goes unnoticed by the indulging boy.

"If I marry Miley and become your daughter in-law, will you cook for me every day?"

I receive a hearty chuckle from him and a soft scoff from Miley.

"It's nice to know you would be marrying me for my dad." She is smiling.

I grin at her. "Baby, you know I love you."

Everyone at the table, besides me, starts to choke on what ever is in their mouth.

I laugh at this before shoveling more food into my mouth and effectively clearing my plate before Jackson.

"Can I have seconds?"

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I jolt awake panting and sweating and for a split second, I almost think it's blood.

I rush into the bathroom and frantically try to wash away the red stains that aren't there. Raking my nails over my skin, the blood just wouldn't go away.

Panicked hands still my frantic scrubbing and scratching. The blood looks so real, turning the water pink and spiraling down the drain.

"What are you doing?" A female voice rasps behind me and I don't know if it's her hands shaking mine or the other way around.

"It wont come off." I tell her, straining to scrub the dripping crimson away.

"What, what wont come off?" Miley begs for the answer and my mind is so fuzzy that I don't even think to lie.

"The blood."

She pulls me into a hug from behind so I am pulled away from the gushing water and so her front presses into my back.

"Lils honey, you are the one causing the blood." She speaks softly as if to a child, and her words suddenly cause pain to register in my hands.

I crumble to my knees and press my forehead into the tile taking deep gasping breaths through my mouth, trying not to smell the metallic sent of blood.

Miley gently takes my scratched hands into a towel and pats them dry with extreme care, though the cloth still irritates my sensitive skin.

I'm left there sitting stupidly as my friend fiddles around getting supplies and smearing different liquids and goos on my hands before finally wrapping them in a soft cloth.

"Thanks." I murmur when she finally sits back on her heels to study me.

She just nods, eyes a blue grey like a rain cloud above the ocean before a storm.

And a storm is coming.

"What was that- and don't you dare say nothing Lillian Truscott." I give a halfhearted glare at the use of my full name.

"Nothing to worry about-" I rush on before she interrupts me, because I can tell she was going to, "Just a dream that I haven't had in a while. It threw me off and I was still half way in it."

I could tell by the look in her eyes that she wanted more of an explanation but that was all I was willing to give right now.

"Please..." I beg her softly. "I'm not ready."

It takes only a second of her looking into my eyes for her to agree.

"Alright, let's go back to bed."

She helps me to my feet by pulling me up from my elbows. Her grip is gentle but unyielding. There was no chance of me falling through her grasp.

We stand close for a moment, both of our breathing finally calming from the events, before she releases me and leads the way out the door.

We get under the now chilly covers and do our best to fall back asleep, even if our minds are still reeling.

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**So let me know what you think. Reviews are very much appreciated**

**-Fantasy**


	3. Chapter 3

**So reviews? Please?**

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_To love is to destroy, to be loved is to be the one destroyed- Jace from the Mortal Instruments_

_This, to me, is fitting. I loved him, I still do, and I think that he loved me too. Why else would he do what he did? But then why did he leave me?_

_He destroyed himself because he cared for me, and he couldn't take it. I loved him, but how is it that I was the one to kill him? And because he loved me too, it killed me as much as him when he left._

_If love is a destroyer, why do we let ourselves love in the first place. Is it something we have a choice in the matter of, or are we helpless to it's cruel clutches?_

_Even now I continue to love and even now I continue to tare them down._

_Is it really love if I know this and do nothing to push them away? But it hurts to push them away, too. If it hurt to be close to them and hurts to be away from them, then how can anyone survive in this life?_

_Is it wrong that I want them to love me and therefore, break me even more?_

_I can't find it in me to care anymore._

_Still crumbling,_

_-Scotty_

I lean luxuriously against the rail of my back deck, cancer stick dangling from my fingers.

The sky is grey with the oncoming night and I let myself breathe in the cool air that is mixed with the smell of smoke.

I hold my breath for as long as I can before letting all the pollution from my lungs out in one long puff. Already the stress of the day is pealing off my shoulders as I go into a sort of high.

My mind goes into a welcome giddy state as I take another long drag and swirl the wisps around on my tongue. Again, I let it pass my lips in an exhale.

A creak on the wood beneath me alerts me to another's presence and I turn my head slightly to see _her_ in saddened shock.

A crooked smile breaks across my face. "Heeey."

She leans against the rail next to me wordlessly.

I turn back toward the forest and take another pull from my cigarette.

"You know, smoking can give you cancer."

I shrug. "Let me die of it for all I care. 'Life sucks, and then you die.' It's one of my favorite quotes."

She reaches out, to snatch it away maybe, but I jerk instinctually and she burns her finger. "Shit, sorry." I catch her hand as she goes to put it in her mouth, and gently pull it away. "Don't put a burn in you mouth. Your mouth is hot and will just make it burn more."

I move away and come back a minute later with a bowl of ice water that I set down beside me as I move to sit on the steps overlooking the small woodland area.

Miley follows as I put the stick to my lips again.

"My mom died of cancer last year. That's why we moved; to get away."

I shoot a glance at her before letting out one more puff of smoke and flicking the rest of the offending stick to my feet and crushing it there.

"People say that someone is going to be the death of them, well you just might be the one to save me."

She bumps her shoulder into mine. "That's a good thing right?"

I just stay silent and let her take it however way she wants.

"How did you get in here?" I ask after the silence drags on a little too long.

"Oh, um..." Her cheeks color a bit. "No one answered when I knocked so..."

"You just decided to let yourself in to a home that no one it home to? I don't know, sounds kind of stalker-ish to me."

I smirk as her cheeks go even darker. She clears her throat. "So where is your mom anyway?"

"Work. She's there so much that I wouldn't even know that she still lived here if it wasn't for the constant restocking of beer in the fridge."

She hesitates. "Your dad?"

"Dead." I shrug.

She doesn't apologize like someone normally would, and I'm glad. I don't need hers or anyone's pity. Just like she probably doesn't want mine.

She pushes her ice turned water bowl, away and scoots closer so out legs and shoulders touch. Like a spark over gasoline, a fire lights in an intense heat where she brushes me and spreads its way to my stomach where it pools. My skin suddenly goes into hyper awareness.

I swallow hard as she sets her hand on my thigh in silent comfort.

"So Miley Ray-" Did she just shiver? Is she cold? I run into the house, grab a blanket, and drape it over her frame before a question can pass her lips. "-I told you a secret of mine when we first me, now you get to tell me one of yours."

"One of my secrets, hmm..." She leans against me as she thinks. "I don't really have any secrets." She tells me. For some reason, I believe her. "So how _did_ the rumor that you have slept with half the school come from?"

"I don't really know; people are just idiots. It started slowly I think. The first guy I dated wanted to sleep with me but I said no and broke up with him. He told his buddies that we slept together anyway and about how easy I was. Then I guess the next guy felt to embarrassed that I said no to him when I'm so easy, so he lied too. The girls I've been with as well, telling their friends that we've slept together and eventually it made its way around school. It didn't help that I flirted with almost everyone and didn't deny any of the claims."

"I put on my cocky smirk. "So I guess that's how it happened."

"Why didn't you deny it?" She asks softly.

"Because there's no point in denying it. There is no lose or gain from people thinking that I sleep around." I say keeping my eyes focused on my hands as the try to uproot a weed that had grown through the old steps.

"What about your own self worth?" Her eyes are that intense stormy color again.

"Self worth? I've never had any of that."

She is so quiet that I think that she must not have heard me. But then her hands go to either side of my face and my eyes lock onto hers. They are a piercing angry green that hold me captive. I wouldn't be able to look or pull away if I wanted to.

"I don't know what has happened in your past, but you are not worthless no matter what you or anyone else might think. You are important and good and you _better_ not _ever_ think differently or lower of yourself."

Heat floods my face and I fight desperately to get back into control. I have never wanted to kiss someone as much as I do right now.

I lick my lips and close my eyes because I can't look at her as I tell her my next words, nor do I have the strength to pull away.

"It was two years ago." I whisper. "But it started years before that. I had a brother, he was older by a year. His name was Mathew, but every one called him Matt. My dad, he uh-" My voice wavers. "He beat us. Mom didn't know; he never hit our faces, only our arms, legs, bodies. Stuff that could be covered up.

But two years ago, he didn't stop after I fell unconscious. I started coming back around when I heard yelling. Matty was standing in front of me, he wouldn't let him touch me anymore. Dad got mad and grabbed a knife." As I speak, the images flash through my mind like a movie. Miley's breathing hitches next to me but I don't stop my story; I _need_ her to know.

"He tackled Matty and they fought; I couldn't _see_ anything or move. My head hurt so bad. Then they both just stopped moving and blood was pooling around them." My body had started to shake but I don't realize it until I feel one of Miley's soft hands that still cups my face, gently stroke my cheek.

"I could smell the blood and taste it, od cooper and metallic; some had splattered in my mouth, or maybe it was my own. Then my dad rolled off him, but Matty was the one to stand up. He had blood all over him but I could clearly see the knife sticking out of my _fathers_ chest.

My mom walked through the door right then." My breathing has become labored and now I'm gasping.

Miley continues to stroke my cheek and wraps her arms around my waist.

"Where's your brother?" She softly prompts and I still. My eyes finally flick open and I stare her right in her ever-changing eyes as I tell her the last past, the part that hurts the most.

"He couldn't handle what he'd done, he wasn't a killer. A week later I found him in our bathtub. I thought he was messing with me so I grabbed his wrist only for me to touch something wet and sticky. No matter how hard I scrubbed, the blood wouldn't come off."

Miley's eyes flash down to my bandaged hands and back to my face. I give a weak smile.

Suddenly her smell and warmth wraps around me as she hugs me tightly. "Are you okay?" She murmurs into my neck.

I blink stupidly. Am I okay? No one has ever asked me that before, it's always 'sorry' passing their lips, never asking of my well being.

Throughout the entire recounting of the story, I had refrained from sheading a single tear, but just that one questioned sends tears spilling from my eyes like a waterfall.

"No." I mumble and pull her closer so I can nuzzle her neck easier as the salty water cascades down my face.

She just hold me, stroking my hair as I cry into her neck till way past nightfall.

Finally, I pull away and together we stand up. My heart had calmed down but is now once again racing, but for a completely different reason.

"Stay with me tonight?" My usual cocky tone is reduced to nervousness and insecurity.

"Of course." She smiles.

I lead her up to my room and strip down to my underwear before crawling into bed. She hesitates before following my lead and soon her bare legs are tangling in my own and she's pulling our bodies closer.

My skin sears where we touch and I fall asleep to the uncomfortable squirm of my stomach.

* * *

_The softest pair of lips brush along my neck and nip at my collarbone to coax a moan past my lips, and they are very much successful._

_Her finger tips leave a trail of fire as they run along my naked sides, and as her head dips lower to the valley between my breasts, my back arches as another moan is dragged from deep in my throat; her hot breath fanning over my feverish skin._

_Her long hair tickles my skin as she glances at my face and I can't take it any longer- her slow pace in torturous. _

_So I grab fistfuls of her precious locks and bring our lips together with bruising force. I need her so badly right now._

_I run my tongue over her willing lips before delving into her mouth that harbors a liquid flame._

_Her tongue burns almost painfully against my own and the only way to put out the heat, is to have more of her._

_Her nails dig deep into the hollows of my hips and the feeling of desire is so intense, that I can't help but throw my head back and gasp out her name._

_"Miley!"_

I jolt awake with my heart racing and skin burning, the feeling of the ghost of her touch still digging into the skin of my hip. Miley lays with her back to me and my entire torso is pressed into her from behind as our legs are tangled together and my arms are wrapped securely around her waist.

The area between my legs throbs demandingly and I groan.

How can a dream turn me on that much?

I pull myself from her body and get out of bed only to realize that I'm still in my underwear when the cool air hits my overheated skin. That also, unfortunately, brings the image of Miley also in her underwear in _my_ bed, which does nothing to help my problem.

I breath in the early morning air deeply and comb my fingers through the rats nest that has become my hair.

Twenty minutes later, and my body still hasn't returned to it's normal temperature. Not with Miley just sleeping there half naked and in my bed.

She stirs slightly and reaches out along the covers but her search comes up empty.

She sits up sleepily. "L-Lilly?" She yawns saying my name and it's just so cute that it makes my heart race. "What are ya doinn?" She blinks up at me suddenly wide-awake.

I feel my cheeks burn as she rakes her eyes over my exposed body and I quickly dive into the converse, suddenly very self-conscious.

"Well," I say putting on my flirt smirk in an attempt to scrape up some of my dignity that I lost the night before. "I had a _very_ hot dream and waking up to a half naked girl clutching onto me when I myself am half naked, is not a good way to cool off."

She scoots closer so our bodies are touching again and our faces are inches apart.

"Are you cooled down?" She asks lowly as she trails her fingers down my stomach.

I can't stop the large shudder that rakes my body.

"Thanks to you, no. Maybe you could help with that? But a fair warning, if you continue to do what you are doing right now, I will not be able to stop what I'm doing until after I've had my way with you." I say still keeping up the farce.

"Maybe that's exactly what I want." She whispers moving her lips inches from mine. I feel my stomach coil and send a large throb straight to between my legs.

"Fuck!" I curse and shove myself away from her and fall off the bed.

She's laughing so hard and happily. "You're right-" She wheezes out. "It is fun getting someone so flustered. And I can't believe you actually got so hot and bothered. I think your skin was actually burning me."

"You're a fucking tease, you know that?" I stay on my spot on the floor, gasping and trying my best to revive my poor overworked heart. I try to stand back up but my knees buckle. "Fuck." I once again curse as her laughter fills my ears.

"I can't believe I had that much of an effect on you!" I have to give her a smile. Who wouldn't be able to with her laughing so happily like that?

"Then you have no idea of the effect tat you can have on people." I join in a little with her laughter.

Her eyes are slinking into different shades of blue and green, swirling and changing so fast that it sends my mind reeling.

I've never seen anything like them.

If love it to destroy, and to be loved it to be the one destroyed, then please god, let her break me and tare me to rubble. Let me fall under this girl's hand.

* * *

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**-Fantasy**


	4. Chapter 4

**So here it is, enjoy.**

* * *

_A sick thought can devour the body's flesh more than fever or consumption- Gut de Maupassant_

_I feel sick- sick to have these thoughts, these feelings. I'm no saint, not by a long shot but this is too much, she's too innocent. She's not just some other girl that I flirt with, she's more than that, she_ means _more than that._

_I am Eve and she is the forbidden fruit I should not eat, but just like Eve I so want to and I fear that I will commit that unforgivable sin._

_Forbidden._

_She is forbidden and I shall not break this unforgivable rule._

_Still here,_

_-Scotty_

She walks in front of me chattering mindlessly as she drags me on my board behind her. By the time we pass through the school gates, my foot hadn't touched the ground once since I stopped by Miley's house this morning.

I wave to Charlie as we pass and he seems so much more cheery these past few weeks.

Probably because I haven't been _me_ since Miley showed up.

My stomach twists painfully. I have changed a lot since she came into my life, and I don't know if I like it.

For so long I have been living, no not living, _surviving_ a certain way and every thing I did is what defined me as _me_. If I don't do any of the things I used to, or act the way I always have, does Miley really know me? Do I even know _myself_? Who am I?

I have become very dependent on her, like everything I do suddenly revolves around _her_.

I look around me and realize that no one is flinching away when they see me looking; they just smile and continue on with whatever they were doing.

I release Miley's hand and roll on my own, finally realizing how drastically me behavior really changed.

Miley doesn't know the real me, the me from before.

When she looks back at me in confusion, I wave her on.

Then I slowly skate forward like I used to, giving a flirtatious smile at anyone who would meet my eyes.

As I pass one girl, I hook onto the front of her shirt and pull her close to me, close enough to whisper suggestive words into her ear and then glide away smirking at her red face.

_Time Skip to After 3rd Period_

I'm brooding next to the lockers while Oliver and Miley chat animatedly together. I try hard not to stare at her shiny and so very kissable lips; I try hard not to pull her into my body and-

I glare harder at the girl who has changed almost everything about me in only a few weeks. In only a few weeks, I had told her everything about me and more than anyone else has ever known, including Oliver. It's like the walls I had worked so hard to build up, were nothing but paper to her.

And not even regular paper; that super ultra thin paper that you use to stuff in present bags!

A gentle hand being set on my shoulder stops my stream of mental curses short.

A cocky smirk immediately replaces my scowl as I turn to face the girl who I had suggestively whispered to before the first bell.

I lean forward to brace myself against the locker, placing my elbow above her head. Looking her up and down, I bring our faces to just two inches apart.

She's not a bad looking girl, not at all, but I had come to like a girl who wears jeans and well-fitted T's.

"Hello there." I whisper bringing our lips closer, still. I watch is satisfaction as a blush rises past her collar and to her face. "What can I do for you, or rather, will you let me do to you?"

Her swallow is both loud, and noticeable.

"I-I don't do that kind of stuff if I'm not in a relationship."

A smile curves my lips. She just makes this too easy. "Well of course I would take you to dinner first, who would be so rude as to treat a lady like that? Now after, that's a different story."

"W-what about your g-girlfriend?" She glances over to Miley and I follow her gaze involuntarily. She looks on at us with shock, confusion, and... disgust?

There, there it is. My smile turns from cocky, to cruel. Well this is the real me, let's see how well she likes this true version. I turn back to the girl caged between my arms and lockers.

"Miley? She was just a toy to play with, an experiment. She's too innocent to taint." The last sentence was unintended.

"Okay. Tonight at eight? At Freddy's?" She squeaks.

"Perfect. So why did you come over?" I ask.

"Oh, um... I-I forgot." I grin as her cheeks darken.

Bringing my lips closer, just brushing her earlobe, I say, "I'll see you tonight Becca, and I promise I'll make it worth your while." Then I pull away.

I give a mental victory when I get her name right.

"Alright." She again squeaks and hurries away to her giggling friends. It's weird; sometimes I think this a gay school, though people will settle for anyone in a relationship. Well, I guess that's California for you.

I turn my grin to Oliver and Miley, both who are staring at me in disbelief.

"What was that?" Oliver demands.

"I got a date."

"I heard. _Why_?" I look at him in confusion.

"Because I can."

"But that's not you anymore! That hasn't been you in over a month!"

My eyes harden and my guards come up. "This is me Oliver, you know that. I'm no different than I was a year ago."

"But you are!" He continues to insist. "You _have_ changed; for the better!"

"Lilly, what's goin' on with you, you know you can tell us anything right?" Miley asks in a concerned voice.

"Nothing is going on." I snap at her and she recoils. "You haven't seen the real me yet, and this is it. I'm a freak who flirts, gets in trouble all the time, gets in fights, ditches, goes out with a new person whenever she wants, who smokes all alone on her back porch every night, and lets other people tare her down but doesn't give a fuck because there is nothing left to tare down. I'm not some charity case for you to take pity on and try to fix. I don't need to be fixed, I don't need yours or anyone's pity, and I sure as hell don't need to be changed."

I know my words are harsh but I can't seem to stop them. "Just forget everything I told you, it was a mistake, and I was high, and I wasn't thinking straight. You don't need to be brought into my mess of a life and if I were you, I would get out as quick as I can. Someone like you shouldn't have to handle or deal with people like me, you might become just as fucked up."

I turn to Oliver. "I'm sorry for ruining your chances of a friend." Then I turn on my heel and march into the lunchroom, leaving the two dumbstruck people behind me.

I find Becca in the cafeteria and pull her into my lap, too upset to eat anything myself, which is a first I might add.

Surprisingly, Miley and Oliver come in behind me and take a seat at our usual table, hunched over and talking urgently. I know they're talking about me because they keep shooting worried glances my way.

I guess I hadn't scared her off yet.

I turn back around to Becca's friends and set my head on her shoulder, letting my fingers trail up and down her thigh.

Maybe things do need to change, it just wont be for the better. I let my hand travel higher than it normally would and dip it to squeeze the inside of her leg.

I catch Oliver staring at my hand before flicking his eyes to meet mine. Understanding shadows his face. He knows what I'm going to do tonight.

I feel the girl above me shudder and I grin. Putting my lips to her neck and sucking a little, I hear a gasp escape her. I whisper in her ear, " Can't wait for tonight, you have no idea what I'm going to do to ya."

I slip out from under her and make my way out the lunchroom doors as the bell rings.

My mind races with thoughts, revolving completely around a certain burnet. I can feel her eyes on me sitting class, staring, staring, staring.

A story whirls inside my brain, itching to be caught on paper and my hands franticly grope for one and a pen.

The sheet I finally clout in front of me is used, littered with familiar eyes that make my skin itch and they're staring, staring, staring, as well. Staring, staring, staring, as I write over them in hast to capture my agony and sickness on something solid.

And I'm sick. So, so, so, sick because of what I feel. It's suck a sick thought to want someone so innocent.

Sick, I feel sick.

Maybe if I go all the way tonight, I will really be so dirty it isn't even a possibility for me to get near her.

My heart races as I scribble words onto the paper, hardly realizing what passes through my mind, much less the paper. I don't notice the bell's shrill ringing or when the classroom clears or even when the teacher watches me curiously. I do, however, notice _her_ hesitating at my desk, and I'm sure that she catches the sight of her staring, staring, staring, eyes right back at her.

Twenty minutes into the next class, I sign Scotty with a flourish and shove the multitudes of paper back into my bag and launch myself from my chair.

I push my way past my silent teacher and shove a white slip into Oliver's locker and, after a long hesitant moment, one into Miley's as well.

Then I run out the school doors, desperate to cool my flustered skin. Ignoring Charlie's schedule, I jog to the weak point in the fence and slip through, disregarding his calls for me to come back.

I take off running and find myself at the abandoned beaches and I drop my bag into the white powdered sand, surging forward, plunging into the frigid waves.

The water wraps and pounds against me, plastering my clothes to my goose bumped skin and I revel at the numbness taking hold.

The salty ocean whitecaps crash into my body while icicle-like water sprays my face.

The currents tug me, pull me, beg me to follow them into its depths...

But my skin is no longer aflame, quenched by the ocean's merciful freeze.

I stumble out of the sea on numb legs and snag my forgotten backpack into my arms and make my way home.

When I get into the house, I'm greeted with the sound of clanging and banging from the kitchen. A woman appears in the doorway, eyes bloodshot and swaying, clearly drunk.

"Mom?" I gasp. She always comes home when I'm asleep, and leaves before I get up; I hadn't actually seen her in months.

"You bitch." She slurs taking a step forward with a bottle clenched tightly in her hand.

When she gets close enough, she swings it with all her drunken strength. It hits me hard in the cheek with enough force to knock me to the ground. My eyes burn with involuntary tears from the blow, but I quickly blink them away.

"It's your fault!" She screams, making me flinch. I drag myself to my feet and this time, catch her wrist when she takes another swing at me.

Am I just running is circles?

I pull her into me as she screams profanities into my shirt and lead her to the couch. I stroke her hair gently as she tries to continue hitting me, which I take with ease.

"It's your fault he's dead!"

"I know mom, shh, I know it is." I sooth her and eventually she passes out.

My body is numb more than ever, hardly feeling the bruises that are staring to form.

I go up to my bathroom and turn the shower all the way hot, then step into the scorching stream without bothering to shed any clothes.

The immense contrast of temperature burns my skin to where it almost feels like ice.

I gasp and brace myself against the wall as my skin twitches and begs for me to jump out of the water. Finally, when the tingling stops, I take off my sodden clothes, turn the knob all the way right, and step out of the shower.

The condensation is so thick in the air it makes if hard to such in a deep breath. Even after I rub myself dry, steam still wisps off my heated skin.

I drag my hand across the fogged mirror and curse at what I see.

"Shit." I touch my black and blue cheek and wince at the needle like pin-prickles of 's going to be a bitch to cover up.

I shrug, deciding to just play it off as something I got in a fight.

Sighing, I walk out of my bathroom with nothing but my towel, freezing at the sight of a girl sitting on my bed.

A blush rises to Miley's cheeks when she sees me, but her expression is immediately replaced by concern.

"What happened?" She launches herself off my bed to hover at my side, eyes raking over my body. Even though I know that she is just studying the discoloration on my arms, I shudder.

When her fingers brush my skin, I cringe away from her.

"I got into a fight." I say and push past her to shuffle through my drawers in search of clean clothes.

"And they actually got a hit on you?" She follows after me until I shut the bathroom door back in her face.

"I can't win every fight." I reason, tugging on a long sleeved shirt. I walk back out the door pulling a brush through my hair.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting ready for my date." I reply in the same sassy tone.

"You're hurt, you should stay in bed." She argues.

"If I stay in bed every time I got beat, I would have never left this house until two years ago." I snap and almost regret it when she visibly recoils at my tone. "Where are my damn shoes?" I growl in frustration.

I sigh, giving up for the moment and turn to her.

"Why are you here Miley?"

I watch in hidden amusement, as her cheeks grow darker in color.

"Um.." She shifts uncomfortably. "Oliver told me that you were planning to, uh..."

I interrupt so she doesn't have to say the repulsive word.

"Have sex tonight? Lose my virginity? Give myself away; sell my soul? Well, for the first time, Oliver is right about something. Congratulations to him.

"But, why?"

"Is Oliver right? I don't know, it's surprising to me too-"

"No, why would you give yourself to someone who you don't even know?"

I grab her wrist and pull her so close our faces are inches apart. My heart pounds but I put on a cocky smirk.

"And I suppose you think that you know me? Because I hate to break it to you Miley, but you don't." I bring out faces even closer. "But you are more than welcome to take me instead; just be gentle."

"Stop it!" She shoves me away from her hard and I smile something cruel. She's angry, just like I hoped. "What's wrong with you, this isn't you!"

I laugh and continue searching for my shoes that I find kicked under my bed.

"Why isn't it? Does what you see disgust you? Does it crawl under your pretty little skin and make you want to vomit?" I stand and walk towards her. I brush my fingers along her cheek and down her neck, speaking softly now, but with no less cruelty. My chest aches a little when she cringes away.

"Do I make you sick yet? Do you hate me as much as I hate myself? Does the disgust eat at you from the inside out and you can't wait to get away? Do you _see_ me yet?"

I step away from her horrified silence and turn to my bedroom door. "You might want to let yourself out before my mom wakes up, she wont take kindly to a strange girl in the house. But who knows, maybe she'll like you more than me."

I exit the room and go down the stairs, past my snoring mother, and out the front door.

The sun was just beginning to set, but I still have several hours before my date.

My blood was once again pounding through my veins in both despair and victory. Maybe now she'll stay away; see how tainted I really am. She is the one sin I must not commit.

Eight o'clock finds me meeting Becca at Freddy's, a small local diner, with a grin set in place. We are soon shown to our seats.

My stomach squirms uncomfortably at the prospect of what I'm going to be doing later, mainly because she thinks I'm this experienced person in bed when, in reality, I have never even pleasured myself, let alone anyone else.

Ignoring this, I run my hand up her leg and lean towards her ear.

"Why don't we get out of here? I'm board." I fake pout, when really; I can't wait to just get this over-with.

She blushes and stands, pulling me along by my hand.

We walk past a few shops and turn a corner when I suddenly find my back pressed into and alley wall and a pair of soft lips fiercely pressed into mine.

I kiss back immediately when I feel a tongue push past my lips and tangle with mine. I pull her closer and feel the first signs of arousal as she rubs a knee between my legs non-too gently.

"Your flirting is so hot." She whispers against my mouth, a completely different person that only minutes before.

Removing my lips from hers, I attach them to her neck, sucking and running my tongue over the soft skin there.

About right now is when I usually pull back with an excuse readily on my tongue, but I promised myself I would go all the way tonight.

So instead, I pull her closer, grinding my hips into her but my arousal stops cold when a muffled scream catches my attention.

I pull back, panting slightly, and look toward the lights of the stores.

Becca, oblivious, starts sucking on my neck, hard.

"Stop." I push her away. "What's that?"

"I don't hear anything." She mumbles returning to my neck.

Again, I hear that muffled shriek. I step away from my date, not even hearing her complaints.

"If you leave now, I'm going home." She tells me.

"Lilly!" I hear, almost like a reflexive shout, and I break into a run, out of the dark alley and into the light of the street lamps.

"Miley?" I ask and follow the scuffling noises to a neighboring side road.

What I see makes anger sear through my veins and I run forward, slamming my fist into a boy's face.

Three boys had cornered a familiar figure, covering her mouth with her hands pinned above her head and tugging at her clothes. The middle one, the one holding her and the one who had just gotten a fist full of my knuckles, falls in surprise.

As he gets up, I place myself between my Miley, and him and his two buddies, who had backed away wearily.

I recognize them from school, one of them being the one I sent to the nurse's office the first week.

I glower at them as they form a semi circle around us. Miley clutches the back of my shirt and my fists clench even tighter when I notice her shaking. The bastards.

I speak lowly, the threat presented clearly in my voice. "I thought I made myself clear that you don't talk to her, you don't touch her, you don't even _look_ at her. She's _mine_." I growl.

The one, who had taken my blow, laughs.

"And what are you going to do about it? There are three of us and you're just a little whore. You were probably too busy in some other dark alley groping your other slut. Why can't you give us a turn with this skank, you've probably fucked her enough."

My back goes ridged in anger. "Miley is pure and too innocent to be touched by filth like me, and I sure as hell aren't going to let you, who is as much trash as me, taint her."

"That just makes me want her even more, thinking of all the things I can do to her and be the first to ever experience being inside of her." He says stepping forward and I snap a high kick to his nose.

He once again falls to the trash ridden concrete. "Bet erb!" He says through a river of blood flowing from his nose.

The two boys who have been silent until now, rush at me. I break away from Miley, shoving her backward and launching myself at the nearest boy, slamming my fist into his face and kneeing him hard in his soft spot. He collapses to the ground in an instant and I knee him again in the face to make sure he doesn't get back up for at least a few hours.

I turn to see the other guy reaching for Miley, who had fallen to the ground from my shove.

Grabbing a fist full of his longish blond hair, I slam him forward, knocking his head into the brick wall with a resounding _crack_, hard enough to put him in a coma. Miley screams when he lands at her feet with a heavy thud.

I turn a murderous glare to the broken nosed boy and stare at him with so much hate that he scrambles away.

"You have no idea what I can do to you, all the torturous ways I have learned to hurt someone and make them scream. I think first though, I'm going to have to make sure that you will never be able to even touch any girl again." I step closer. "I ought ta kill you right now." I growl as he cowers against the wall.

And I might have killed him right then, I was so mad, but I don't know because a soft hand tugs on my sleeve, making me turn my glare to her.

Miley doesn't even flinch but she doesn't need to fear me, my eyes instantly soften and turn to concern. Her eyes are that terrible soupy-green color.

I kneel in front of her and reach out to take her face in my hands, but instead they just hover, then drop.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

She reaches her arms out and I hesitate, not wanting my bloody hands to tough her.

"Please?" She asks, her eyes watering. I take her into my arms, hugging her hard before scooping her legs up and standing with her head tucked into my neck.

Deciding it best not to take her to my house, I carry her home. When I walk through her door, Mr. Stewart is immediately at my side to take her into his arms, but she wont release her hold on my neck so he allows me to carry her up the stairs.

"Lilly, what happened?" He asks for the third time, and even Jackson has come from his room to see what has happened to his baby sister.

I just look him fiercely in the eye and say, "They didn't touch her. They're never goanna touch another girl ever again, I'm sure they got the message this time."

Then I walk up the stairs and gently place Miley on her bed. Still, she doesn't let go so I turn to Mr. Stewart who hovers worriedly by the door.

"I'm going to spend the night tonight if that's okay with you."

"Of course, you're more than welcome to stay whenever you want, you know that." I nod my thanks and crawl under the covers as her dad shuts the door quietly.

Miley finally loosens her grip, only to adjust herself and wrap her thin arms around my waist, pulling me closer. I can feel her hot tears against my neck, though she makes no noise.

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**Geez, this was the lo chapter yet!**

**Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think. More drama soon to come.**

**-Fantasy**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry it's up so late, but it's still on time. Enjoy.**

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_To be, or not to be, that is the question- William Shakespeare_

_In the past two years of my life, I have thought a lot about suicide; anyone in my position would._

_I often stare at the bathtub that my brother killed himself in, or even sit inside it. I close my eyes, put the knife to my wrist, and imagine all the horrors my brother must have been feeling when he presses down and ended his life. I myself would never do such a thing, I'm too cowardly for that..._

_Though it makes me think; would anyone miss me if I were gone?_

_I can't think of anyone who would, except maybe Oliver, but he might just be relieved to be rid of a terrible friend like me._

_Still breathing,_

_-Scotty_

The boys didn't come to school the next day, or for the rest of the week. Somehow, word spread that they tried something on Miley, and I beat the shit out of them, which of course is true. What is _not_ true, however, is that I castrated them, but believe me, I would have if Miley hadn't stopped me.

Becca hasn't talked to me at all the past week but let me be honest here too; I didn't care all that must anymore. My idea was stupid to begin with.

On the next Monday, two boys came back with uncomfortable looking plaster over their noses that accompany two black eyes. Apparently the third boy, the one I slammed headfirst into the wall, got a concussion.

Whoops.

When I had asked Miley why she was over there in that area in the first place, she blushed and told me that she was looking for me, making guilt sweep through me. So it _was_ my fault.

Oliver and I stick close to her after this but it's not needed. No one goes near her, everyone avoiding eye contact.

If she wanted to date, it's not like I would stop her, it's just that she seems really grateful for the protection we, or I, give.

Mr. Stewart though, I'm certain he is absolutely grateful and is even more friendly than usual, which is nice. Everything i is nice...

But... Then why do I hurt so badly?

_SLAP_

I close my eyes to the sting of tears, and suck in a deep breath.

"Mom." I turn to my fuming mother and speak calmly. "Please calm down."

"Calm down?! My baby is dead because of you!"

"I know." I hear my own voice crack. "But you have to stop, you're killing yourself living this way."

"Get out!"

I sigh as tears prick in my eyes and make my way out to the back porch.

Sitting on the steps, I light a cigarette and put it to my lips, taking a long drag.

My shoulders slowly relax and I lean back to rest on my elbows.

All I have been wanting is for my mom to come home and for me to be able to see her, talk to her, and it looks like my wish came true.

"Be careful what you wish for huh?" I laugh bitterly.

Maybe we can have some mother daughter time. Sitting on the couch watching reruns from Criminal Minds so she can learn the best way to kill me, drinking ourselves into oblivion until we either pass out or die of alcohol poisoning...

_This is the life_, I think in some sort of twisted amusement.

A familiar ringtone breaks my sick fantasies and makes me scowl.

"What do you want Oliver?" I snap into the phone.

In response, I get a giggle barely heard over loud music. "Ca-can you pick us up from this part?" He hiccups. "M-Miley's really drunk."

I stand. "You took Miley to a party without telling me?"

"I did!" He denies. "I told you at lunch and you said okay!"

I think back to that conversation, but all I remember from lunch is frantically writing in a notebook.

I sigh, pressing my fingers to the spot between my eyebrows.

"Fine, where are you?"

He gives me that address and I sprint back inside, ignoring my mother's shouts at me, and out the front door.

I make it to the house in about five minutes, the music even able to be heard from outside. Sighing, I push my way into the house, immediately being enveloped by the smell of alcohol and teenage hormone.

I find Oliver in the kitchen with a red cup in his hand, tipped up to his mouth. I take it from him, sloshing some of the stale beer over his shirt, and toss it into the trash.

"Hey Lilly." He slurs.

Before doing anything, I slap him in the arm. "You _doughnut_!"

"Ow!" He whines.

"Where's Miley?" I ask, only getting a shrug in return.

"Fine." I huff. "Go wait in your car until I find her,"

Before leaving, he reaches for another cup, but I quickly slap it out of his hand and shove him in the direction of the door.

Shoving a drunk person is never a good idea. He goes sprawling into the carpet.

I sigh and go pushing through the crowd in search of the person I'm most worried about: Miley.

I find her in the middle of the dance made floor with many boys and girls alike, dancing very close to her.

"Hey." I growl. That's all I had to do because even in their drunken state, they scramble away, not taking any chances to get on my bad side.

"Common Miley, we're going home." I say, taking her small hand.

"But I'm having fun!" She smiles goofily at me.

"You're drunk, and we should go; Oliver's waiting in the car."

"Fuck Oliver, come dance with me." I almost flinch at the language. Miley never curses, and hearing that word come from her mouth, in her voice... I don't like it.

"No. Let's go." I give one last tug and she reluctantly follows.

The crowd parts easily when I shove through, and then closes back up in a mass of bodies behind Miley.

Oliver is waiting in the car fiddling with the radio when I push Miley into the back seat.

"You know I'm going to kill you tomorrow, right?" I ask him.

And he happily replies, "Yup!"

Oliver stumbles out of the car when we reach his house. "I'm stealing your car!" I call after him and get a thumbs up in response before he pukes into the bushes.

I start driving again when Miley pokes her head out from between the seats. I almost jump, thinking she had already passed out.

"Where are we goin'?" She asks.

"My house." I scowl and push her backwards with one hand. "Put your seatbelt on."

"You didn't make Oliver."

"Yeah, well you're not him." I suddenly feel bad for all the parents out there who had to deal with this because really, a drunken Miley is like a kid Miley.

We pull up to my house and I help a stumbling Miley out of the car, and practically carry her to my bed. I throw the covers over her and soon she falls fast asleep, almost like a child.

Then I go down stairs and pick my sleeping mother up from the couch and carry her up to her room. I leave two Tylenols and a glass of water beside her bed, and then do the same next to mine.

With a tired sigh, I curl up on the floor with a pillow and stare up at the ceiling.

"Damn it." I curse lowly before closing my eyes tightly to fight against the onslaught of tears.

I choke on a sob and roll onto my stomach to hide my face from the taunting shadows. It's like if they see me cry, they'll pull me into their icy depth, and I'm not ready to be lost yet.

My fists tighten in the soft fabric before loosening. Sniffing, I turn onto my side to stare at the object of most of my frustration.

I reach up and gently brush her fingertips that are slightly hanging over the edge, with my own.

My hand drop to the cold floor and I curl my knees into my body like the trash I am. Or I might as well be, compared to this beauty beside me.

My eyes close, dragging me into the new horrors that sleep offers.

The dream is different tonight. Instead of finding him, I _am_ him. Instead of feeling horror of what happened, I'm at peace.

As my blood drains and spills over my wrist, I turn y head up toward the ceiling in peace. It's as if, as my blood leaves my body, so does all the guilt of what I had done...

But then it changes. I switch points of view in that strange way that can only happen in dreams and suddenly, I'm Miley, walking into the bathroom; tough I don't know why she's there. And it's _me_ she finds in the tub, not my brother.

I open my eyes slowly, not sure what to make of the dream; my body seems to be numb.

I exhaustedly look at the clock to see that it says eleven thirty-six. Turning my gaze back to the ceiling, I cross my arms behind my head, just staring off into space for a few minutes.

Then I curl, hauling myself to my feet. I gently brush strands of hair out of Miley's face when I pass, aching to run my fingers over her soft skin and caress her fair cheek.

I stride past the bed and enter the bathroom that connects my room to my dead brother's.

After brushing my teeth clean, I stare at myself in the mirror for a few mindless moments before glancing at the bathtub.

I pluck a razor from the counter at strut over to the cold tiled tub, folding myself into the dry bottom. Tucking my knees to my chest, I shivered when to-cold metal of the blade touches my wrist.

My eyes close as I picture my brother here, sitting in this exact tub, with all this pain coursing through his body and turning into self-hate.

How much pain can one be in to kill themselves? Does it take strength to drag that blade across your skin, or weakness?

I feel the frigid metal, warming slightly from my body heat, and I can finally see the appeal in ending it all.

It must be weakness then, because the girl just on the other side if that door, breaks me down and makes me helpless.

I can see Matt debating in his mind, like me right now, with that old famous saying. "To be, or not to be, that is the question." I muse.

My eyes still closed, I feel the pressure on my wrist increase considerably, though still not enough to break any skin.

Yes, this is what he felt when he ended his life, it must be. Drowning in hopelessness, it makes me ache to put that last ounce of pressure to end it all. I press so hard that I start to worry that if my hand shakes, the razor will slice deep into my waiting skin.

then I'm being brought out of my thoughts by the sound of a door being opened and a sharp intake of breath.

My grip slackens in surprise, causing the blade to fall to the bottom of the tub with a clang.

Let me tell you, whirling around while cramped in the bottom of a bathtub is not the smartest thing.

My knee rams into the edge, sending pain up into the joint. "Ah!" I gasp and clutch my wounded limb.

"What the hell, Lily?" Miley finally gets out, and rushed forward to the edge of the white bowl, dragging me out by mu arms. Surprisingly, Miley is pretty strong.

She pulls me into her to hug me fiercely and her smell wraps around me, slightly tainted by the alcohol of last night.

"Why would you try to kill yourself; what is bothering you Lils?"

I gently try to push her away but she wouldn't budge. "I wasn't trying to kill myself." I tell her through a mouthful of her shirt on her shoulder where she securely holds my head.

"Then what the _hell_ were you doing?" I wince at her harsh voice.

I shove her away again, this time harder, and successfully break her hold. I don't meet her changing eyes, certain that they are that troubling sympathetic blue-grey color.

"Sometimes I sit in there like my brother had, and try to feel what he felt when he s=decided to erase himself from existence."

"That certainly didn't look like you were just thinking." Despite her attempts to hide it, her voice still wavered noticeably.

Wonder becomes apparent in my whispered response. "Because I finally felt it, the aching need to end all the hurt."

She shakes my shoulders roughly and I finally notice the tears streaming from her eyes. She's crying? For me?

I use my thumb to wipe the tears and lift her chin. "Why are you crying?" I wonder aloud.

She shoves me in the chest cursing me out, before fisting her hands in my shirt and burying her face in my neck where it gets damp from her tears.

"You're scaring me, stupid." She says.

Guilt expands in my chest, hot and cold, and I bring my hands up to stroke her back.

"I'm sorry." I soothe. "Please don't cry, I didn't mean to frighten you, love." She sniffs.

"Please just let me in." She begs. "Tell me what's wrong so I can make it better."

"No." I shake my head. "I'm not dragging you into my sick thoughts, you don't deserve to have to deal with it."

She grips me tighter. "Neither do _you_!"

"I do, I do." I say. "I don't want to drag you into it; you're too innocent, I'll only tare you down."

"I don't care if you pull me to Hell, please let me in."

I can hear the determination and plea in her voice.

I hesitate, only needing her one last soft, "_Please_..."

"You're going to hate me." I tell her in one last effort in getting her to back down.

She pulls back and stares me in the eye. "I wont."

"I..." I choke and feel my eyes water. "I think I'm in love with you."

My cheeks color slightly when her pushes my hair back from my face and cradles my cheek. "Why is that so bad? Is loving me so terrible?"

"Yes, it's sick." I close my eyes. "You're so innocent and perfect, and I'm nothing but this dirty being that has no right to love you. I'm sick, I'm disgusting, and now you hate me because-"

I'm cut off by something soft pressing hard into my lips. The effect is like sticking a fork in an electrical socket, which I did when I was five, flames shooting from the object of contact and washing over my body and coiling in a hot pool in my stomach.

I moan in a sudden throb of arousal that courses through me. I'm all to aware of Miley's hands fisted in my hair and tugging it almost painfully. Digging my nails into her hips, I bring her closer from our position on our knees until not a single piece of paper can slide between our bodies.

Our lips part for a brief moment, leaving me throbbing and aching, all from a single kiss. A very _hot_ kiss.

"How dare you." She nearly growls against my lips, sending spiking desire straight to my throbbing center and making my finger curl even more and a whimper to ride in my throat. "How _dare_ you even suggest that you're not good enough for me when all you have ever done is protect me."

"You're too innocent." I whisper, though it's not very convincing because my eyes are half-lidded and my hands show no sign of letting go.

"Right now, my thoughts are anything but innocent." Her entire chest rumbles against my own and a large shudder races down my spine, and she's attacking my lips again. Suddenly something prods my slack lips and intrudes into my mouth and, oh my god it's so hot and wet.

Our lips move sloppily together as if we're both drunk, but I can't find it in me to care because I _throb_ and I _need_ her.

And I think she needs me too because right then, one of her hands untangles itself from my hair and dips under my shirt to cup my ribs just below my breast...

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**Yay, finally some Liley!**

**So please let me know what you think!**

**-Fantasy**


	6. Chapter 6

**Is anyone still reading this?**

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_If you gave someone your heart and they died, did they take it with them? Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled?- Jodi Picoult_

_When my brother died, my heart was gone. I was left with an empty void in its place. Only my best friend kept me going; like a wined up toy, he would reset me each day. But I was still empty._

_Then _she_ came; perfect and beautiful and kind, she made me _feel_. I no longer need to be wound up; I'm alive again._

_She's so innocent compared to me and I try to push her away, but she just reaches through my breast and grabs hold of the shadow of my missing heart and doesn't let go. Everything she does makes it pound with a strength that makes me believe she is forging a new one with her name scrawled across the center of it._

_With a beating heart,_

_-Scotty_

She lands on top of me, when I fall back on the tiled floor, with a thump and she only presses her lips harder into mine.

I can feel my heart pounding erratically throughout my entire body to the point of almost pain. It almost feels like its lodged in my throat and I might chock.

I gasp as her other hand, the one that was still clutched in my hair, finds its way to my clenching stomach, a moan rising past out tangled tongues and the vibration transfers to her lips where she swallows it. Her fingers leave trails of heat wherever they touch over my twitching and agitated muscles.

My fingers ache to travel as well, and explore this goddess hovering above me, but my nails dig farther into me hips.

"M-Miley." I murmur, using all my strength to pull back.

"Shut up." She replies, and I have little power to resist as she attacks my lips once more.

"Miley stop." I say a little stronger, pulling back after a few seconds.

She hesitates at the new tone I used, and sits back on her heels. I lay there panting at the ceiling, trying to get back some of my stolen breath, or even a little function to my brain.

"Do you not want me...?" I finally glance up with these words, at the girl sitting between my legs to see Miley's bangs covering her eyes as she stares at the ground.

"God Miley, of course I want you. I want you, no _need_ you more than anything."

"Then why-"

"If we're going to do this, if you want me as much as I want you, we need to take it slow. I wouldn't be able to handle it if this was just an in-the-moment thing for you, and you end up regretting it. Regretting me. It would be unforgivable if I took advantage of this moment for my own sick purposes."

She looks at me with an 'awe' kind of smile.

"There you go again. Worrying about me and protection me from the smallest of things."

"It's because of me that you need protecting." I say, gently brushing her hair behind her ear and lingering my finger on her cheek.

She shakes her head. "It's my choice to do those things I need protecting from, not yours."

I sit up to argue, but my protests die when I feel her soft lips lightly brush mine and her palms cupping my cheeks.

"Guess what?" She whispers.

"Hmm?" I hum, barely able to focus on her words with her breath fanning across my face.

"I think I'm in love with you too."

I pull back abruptly is surprise, searching her eyes for any sign that she's lying, but her eyes are rapidly changing colors and shades so fast, that I can't keep up or place the emotion before it's gone and replaced.

I have truly never seen anything like them and I ache to reach out and kiss her again.

So I do.

I fist my hand in the front of her shirt and pull her into me forcefully. But we are parted a moment later by the sound of something breaking downstairs.

"Shit, already?" I curse pulling away a leaping to my feet.

I turn to confused Miley, still on her knees on the tile floor. "Don't come downstairs, alright?"

Not waiting for her response, I race down the steps and into the living room where I find my mom is already drunk, even though she probably just woke up an hour ago.

I think she lost her job or something because she hasn't left the house since I first found her home.

She now stands, cursing and bare foot, in the debris of a fallen lamp.

"Don't move." I tell her, tiptoeing my way over.

"I don't need your help."

Ignoring her words, when I get close enough to her, I gently grab her arm but she h=jerks away.

"Don't touch me!" She screams and shoves me.

Like anyone would, I gasp as I fall and feel my palms split open and purple glass lodge there. Another sharp intake of breath that doesn't belong to me, sounds at the stairs, making both my mother and I turn to a wide eyed Miley.

"Go back upstairs Miley, I'm fine." I get up and pull my mother, screeching, into my arms and lift her into my arms like a child.

I wince every time I receive a blow to the head or cut my foot, but I make my way to the couch and gently set her down on the soft cushions.

Once again ignoring her screaming protests, I search her feet for any cuts only to find none.

I'm brought back to attention when a hard slap is delivered to my cheek, making my head snap to the side with the force.

Another gasp from the steps and I look up.

"Go back up stairs Miley." Another sting on my face.

"Don't ignore me!" My mom brings my notice back to her.

"Get some sleep mom; you're not hurt."

I straighten up and retrieve a broom and towels to sweep up the glass and wipe up the blood that had splattered onto the floor.

"Come on Miles." I say softly, tugging on her sleeve to get her up the stairs. She follows me blindly back to my bathroom where I start digging fragments of glass out of my palms, making fresh blood begin to spill over my skin.

After about the third crimson turned piece clanked into the trashcan, Miley finally seems to snap out of her wide eyed staring.

She rushes over with another gasp.

"What was that? How long has this been going on?" Her voice is high in panic as she pushes my hands away in order to do it herself, much more gently than I had.

With her small careful fingers, my hands are glass free in only a few, minutes. I pull the cabinet under the sink open to show her the large supply of bandages left over from years before.

She sadly pulls out what she needs and starts wrapping my hands. I finally respond when she finishes.

"A few weeks; since she's been home. I think she lost her job and that's why she's drinking so much; she can't bury herself in work."

"Why don't you tell anyone?" She holds my bandaged hands to her heart.

"She just needs help; she's not a bad person."

"She abuses you."

"No." I shake my head. "It's not abuse; she doesn't mean what she does. Besides," I shrug sadly, "I've had much worse; I can take it."

Miley's eyes water so I cup her cheek and draw her closer. I brush my thumb under her eye, wiping away her tears before they fall.

"Is this oaky?" I ask, pulling her closer still.

She nods, so I softly kiss her trembling lips.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." I murmur, pulling her into what I hope to be a comforting hug.

I assume it is because she then buries her head in my neck and sniffs. "No, I'm glad I know now."

I just nod in response.

"Hey Miley?" I ask softly after just standing awhile.

"Hmm?" She hums.

"You should probably go home now; your dad will be getting worried and I don't want the FBI knocking down my door thinking I kidnapped you."

She groans and pulls back. "My dad is going to kill me if he finds out that I was drinking."

I smile in amusement as she fists her hands in her hair and starts looking for her shoes back in my bedroom.

"That's why I brought you here instead of home."

She pauses in front of me with one shoe on, the other clutched in her hand as she pecks me on the lips.

"Thanks." She breathes, her warm breath fanning across my face. I beam in response as she hops on one foot to jam on her other shoe.

She grabs my hand and then drags me to the door. "Come on, Daddy's going to be angry."

When we sit down in Oliver's car, I can't help but stare at Miley, her hair creating chocolate waves down her back and her face, soft. A shiver runs down my spine when I realize that her lips are redder than usual, still raw from kissing me so hard, but not noticeable unless you stare at her with as much intensity as I am now.

"What?" She sifts self-consciously under my gaze.

"Nothing." I say turning back to pull out of the driveway. "It's just that you have no idea of how beautiful you are."

From the corner of my eye, I see her blush and as an after thought, I smile and say, "And I'm not flirting."

A short laugh falls from her lips, causing my smile to grow.

I hop out of the car when we pull up into the driveway, and rush around to open Miley's door as well, causing her to giggle slightly.

As soon as Miley walks through the door, Mr. Stewart is stalking toward her.

"Miley Ray Stewart, where in Sam's Hill have you been?" Even thought he's trying to sound angry, worry lines are evident on his face.

Ever since I told him the whole story of what happened with Miley a few weeks ago, minus the reason she was searching for me in the first place, he has been even more worried when she goes out. Except when she's with me.

I step forward.

"I'm sorry Mr. Stewart, it's my fault. We lost track of time just talking and it was really late by the time I realized how late it had gotten. I was really tired and didn't think that I could drive very safely, and I didn't want her going home by herself in the dark, so I made her spend the night. We just woke up about an hour ago."

He turns his affectionate gaze to me.

"That's alright Lily, you're just taking care of my baby girl. Thank you."

I scratch the back of my neck awkwardly. If only he knew what we were just doing a half hour ago... I bet he wouldn't think so highly of me then.

"Would you like to stay for breakfast, or lunch for you I suppose?"

I really hope that the drool dripping onto my shirt is imaginary. I nod vigorously and land myself into my self appointed chair at the table. Miley sits next to me with an amused smile.

"Jackson already working?" I ask absent mindedly while cutting a large piece off my omelet and shoving it in my mouth.

"Yup." Mr. Stewart says. "Rico is working him real hard."

I hum while chewing. "Rico is an evil midget demon."

Miley giggles. "An evil midget demon?"

I release my fork for a moment to demonstrate my two fingers sticking out of my head.

"With little horns." I say with as much conviction as I can.

She giggles again and I look at her in all seriousness as I shove another mouthful of my breakfast for lunch.

"I'm dead serious. He once got me to carry him everywhere for a week, and don't ask how, cause I'm not tellin'. Bottom line is if he wants something, he'll get it with as much pain and embarrassment as possible from the people he uses."

Miley gulps comically as I scrape my plate clean. "Don't worry, he wont mess with you. He's not the only one good at black mail." I send her a wink as I stand to put my empty plate in the sink.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"Hm." I hum as Miley stands up with her half empty plate. Because I'm leaning against the sink, she has to lean close to put it in. My breath freezes I'n my throat as I catch a whiff of her hair.

Miley pauses as well and looks deep into my eyes. They're doing it again; her eyes are flicking through colors, swirling, mixing, fading, changing.

Miley looks at her dad over her shoulder before taking my hand and dragging me up the stairs.

"We're going to my room Daddy!" She calls to her father who is absorbed in the game playing on TV.

"Alright bud." He replies.

When the door to her room shuts, I can't help but step forward to capture her lips in a long gentle kiss.

"I'm never going to get tired of that." I mumble pulling away, and smirk at the dazed look on Miley's face. "You'll be my girlfriend, right?" I ask almost shyly, which is crazy because I'm me. I don't get shy!

In answer, I get another long kiss that make my brain short circuit.

"Of course." She says pulling away, making me pout in protest. She laughs, kisses me shortly again, then goes to sit on the bed.

Much more satisfied, I claim my seat on the roll-y chair by the desk.

"So did you like girls before me?" I ask, playing it off as disinterest as I spin around and around. Secretly though, I watch her expression from the corner of my eye.

She seems to know this, because she smirks. "Nope."

I stop spinning. "Were you freaked out when you realized what you were feeling?"

"Not at all; you can't choose who you fall in love with, and I knew that."

I smile at the indirect confession of love. And like that, we sit there and talk until the late afternoon.

Mr. Stewart comes to the door at about four and pokes his head in. "Will you be eating with us Lily?"

I shake my head. "Sorry Mr. S, I should get going. I have to get Oliver's car back to him..."

"That's alright Lil, maybe next time."

"Most definitely." I grin to which he returns.

"All right then, see you when you come by tomorrow."

Miley and I follow him down the stairs but when he goes into the kitchen, she follows me out the front door.

I turn to her with a reluctant smile, a little disappointed that I have to go

"Bye Lily." She says and starts to turn away when I catch her wrist.

"'O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?'"

She grins and says in reply, "'What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?'" But even then, she moves closer to cup my cheek.

"O, fair Juliet, it is but your touch that I crave and your love of me."

"I don't think that was a line that they said." She says lightly kissing me, but pulling more than a centimeter away.

"That's because it wasn't This is all me." I whisper, kissing her for what seems like the millionth time, but not nearly enough.

"Mmm." She mumbles. "How charming."

"Only for you, Love."

-Kiss.

"You should go."

-Kiss.

"I know." I lean in for one last lingering kiss that leaves my pulse racing and cheeks flushed...

I reluctantly pull away.

"Goodnight." She whispers to which I reply, "'Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be marrow.'"

I surge forward again and kiss her quickly before she can scold me for not leaving.

"Bye Lily." She says as I finally make my way to the car.

"Goodbye my sweet Juliet." I smile at her as I slide into the stale seat.

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**So if you are still reading this, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. There is still more to come though, so it's not over yet.**

**Does my writing suck? Does it not make sense? Please let me know.**

**-Fantasy**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm so sorry that this took so long, but it's up now. This chapter is going to kind of get into the M part of why it's rated the way it is, so, there's just a warning there.**

**Let me know what you think, and again, sorry it took so long to update.**

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_The most beautiful moments always seemed to accelerate and slip beyond one's grasp just when you want to hold onto them for as long as possible- E.A. Bucchianeri_

_I had never had anything good in my life- really good. It's always sucked with things with my father and then my brother._

_Pain seemed to be the only constant in my life, except maybe Oliver. Oliver has always been there, he's my best friend and I guess I can say that he was the only good in my life._

_Even when I'm a bitch to him and run off to do my own thing, he still lets me come crying back into his arms with not so much as an 'I told you so'._

_But then _She_ comes. So shy and perfect and so very much _good_._

_But she has never been a constant, so it makes me wonder; how long will she last? And if she doesn't, will I survive this time?_

_You better not tell,_

_-Scotty_

As I drive away from her house, my smile slowly drops to nothing. With me not in the room, she will most certainly rethink what just happened. She will really think. And then regret her decision.

If not, then things will go good for a while until she finds a nice boy that she likes.

My hands tighten on the wheel. I need to talk to Oliver.

My foot presses down on the gas a little harder and I feel as the car responds by lurching into a higher speed until I'm soon turning off the ignition in my best friend's driveway.

"Hi Mrs. Oaken." I greet as I walk through the door without invitation. She waves from the kitchen with a smile. "Oliver not up yet?" I ask leaning against the counter to watch as she puts brownies in the oven.

"Nope, he had five too many drinks last night, don't you think?" With a nod from my head she continues. "That reminds me, do you mind taking these up to him?"

She hands me a glass of water along with two oval shaped pills.

"Not at all Mrs. O." I turn with one last smile and head up the stairs.

Not being courteous at all, I slam my best friend's door open loudly, interrupting his snores. "Get up Oaken, rise and shine."

A loud groan sounds somewhere beneath the piles of sheets on the bed.

"Screw you." He moans sending a pillow horribly in my direction. It hits the wall five feet to my right.

"Awe, don't be that way Ollie, I have your pain killers."

A hand appears out of the heap and I hand over the glass and pills. Then the blankets fall away as he sits up with a head of messy hair. He tilts his head back and downs them in one gulp.

He's silent for a moment before he turns to glare at me through his messy black mop.

"What do you want and what did you do?"

I grin. He knows me so well, and even if I know it wont last, I can't help but feel giddy about the events that took place an hour before.

"Okay, don't be mad-" I take a seat next to him on the mattress.

"Why is it that whenever you say that, it usually means that I'm going to be in pain?"

I ignore this though silently agree. "-but I kind of told Miley that I love her."

Oliver's face is impassive as he stares at me blankly. "And do you?"

My sigh sounds almost dreamy. "Yes." I confess and fall back onto the bed with my heart thudding fast by just thinking about her. He leans back as well and shifts to face me.

"What was her response?"

I bit my lip as a smile breaks across my face. "She kissed me." I bring my fingers to lightly touch my lips where I can still feel the ghost of hers.

He stares for a moment longer before a huge grin breaks his expressionless facade. "I knew it."

"...What?" I ask a little confused.

"I knew you two were falling for each other, it was so obvious!" He continues sitting up excitedly.

"You're delusional." I say.

"You're the delusional one if you think no one noticed your absolute devotion to her."

I scoff, giving him a shove. "Shut up."

He rolls his eyes playfully and says something totally like Oliver. "So when can I get a video of you two making out?"

Instead of hitting him like he was expecting from his cringe, I laugh.

"Wow." He says straightening up. "She makes you really happy doesn't she?"

"She really does." I say honestly, and then frown slightly. "I just don't think I'm good enough for her; she deserves better than me."

A frown tugs at my best friend's mouth as well. "Do you love her?" He asks seriously.

"With all my heart." I reply immediately.

"And will you ever intentionally hurt her?"

My face hardens at the thought, practically growling the answer. "Never."

His lips once again lift. "Then you are good for her, as long as that feeling never changes."

I study him quizzically for a moment, pursing my lips in a thin white line. "You have been reading your mom's magazines again haven't you."

"No! Well yes, but it's still true!" He says and a smile breaks across my face.

"Alright Ollie, I believe you."

"Well good, cause I'm gonna go back to sleep now." He says flopping backwards and pulling a pillow over his face.

A short laugh falls from my lips as I stand, patting his stomach on the way out the door.

"You do that buddy, see you tomorrow."

I only get a mumbled response as I softly shut his door behind me.

"Bye Mrs. Oaken!" I call over my shoulder as I make my way out the door.

"Bye dear, be safe walking home!'

"I will." I give her a grin before pulling the door shut behind me.

I breathe in deeply as I tilt my head up to the darkening sky. The stars just barely glint through the clouds of the not yet dark oblivion.

A breeze stirs my hair and the feeling of being in a movie wraps magically around me. Usually when this atmosphere falls around me, it's of me watching in on other's lives- that I was just a spectator of a film. Never have I ever felt so real, so there.

Only when I'm in pain or in a few weightless moments with my best friend do I ever feel that I'm actually living.

This is real; I am real. I can only hope that it lasts- that this high that I have doesn't have just as big of a fall. Miley, Miley, Miley.

I smile as my feet carry me to the beach where the waves crash along the shore. People mill along the cooling sand, only a few hardcore surfers daring to enter the icy water.

I turn away from the water and the harsh tide, for the first time in a while feeling like I'm not drowning. The walk home seems short and when I enter the house, it is dark and silent. No clanking of alcohol bottles or drunken curses. Nothing.

It's just perfectly silent as I make my way upstairs and fall into bed.

Perfect silence.

...

The weeks that pass are amazing. Oliver, Miley, and I at school walk through the halls like the sun is out for the first time, though maybe that's just me feeling that way.

It feels like everything up to now was a dream and I just woke up. Everything is in a much more sharper focus and I find myself actually focusing in class.

My teachers at first looked at me suspiciously, like I was up to something, but after the first few weeks, they seemed to lose the paranoia. My writing teacher commented one day, that my writing style has changed- a not as dark outline to it and all I did was smile.

I've been doing that a lot lately- smiling.

Everything just feels so surreal, but very tangible.

I'm even meeting up with Oliver and Miley at this old family restaurant. It's a double date kind of deal; Oliver had met this nice girl at a soccer game and they seemed to hit it off. This would be their third date.

"Yes, I know I'm late." I tell Oliver over the phone. "I just have to pick up my sweater from school and I'm already at the gate. It will take me two minutes to run in and get it and another five to walk there. If you want, I'll cut it down to three by running."

_"This date is very important to me, I want you guys to really like her."_

"Does Miley?" I ask.

_"Yes."_ He says.

"Then I like her; I trust Miley's judgement." My footsteps echo along the empty corridors.

_"Just get here."_ He sighs and I laugh.

"I will- see? I'm already at my locker; I'll be there in five."

I hang up and sigh before stuffing my cell into my pocket and hitting the edge of my locker. It springs open wide enough for me to reach in and pull out the blue sweater I had accidentally left on Friday.

Instead of walking all the way through the school again, I decide to go out the side exit. It's getting warmer outside, but there is still a slight chill in the air; like winter might come back at any second if you decide to leave your house without a coat, even if it just hangs around your waist.

I'm pulled from my thoughts, by movement at the corner- three boys disappearing around it.

Curiosity makes me follow them. "Hey!" I call. School is closed, and I can't imagine anyone wanting to come back on a Saturday night- it's already getting dark.

"Hey, wait up!" I say rounding the corner at a jog. "What're you-"

Something hard and unmistakably mettle slams into my head, and before I know it, I taste gravel in my mouth.

Black dots my vision, and there seems to be a ringing in my ears. A headache throbs painfully as hands grab at me and pull. I vaguely hear myself moan as I'm dragged behind the school.

"Fuck." I mutter as I can make out the people holding on to me. It is the boys I had saved Miley from.

The leader of the group looks down at me with a sick sort of grin.

"Not so tough now, are you?" He swings an old pipe around in his hands. The other two look less certain then he does about what they are doing; the one I gave a concision to keeps shifting is eyes from me to the gates, like he's wanting to make a run for it.

If I could just get some control of my body, he wont be able to...

"Says the one who has to take a girl by surprise by hitting her over the head with a lead pipe." I gasp shifting slightly to a sitting position. I can almost feel my hand now.

Anger crosses his face and in a flash, his knee connects with my nose.

Blood gushes into my mouth but it doesn't feel like it's broken. I choke on the hot metallic liquid, and twist painfully onto my side to cough it onto the dirty ground.

"Hey, come on Dylan, I think that's enough." One of them says, grabbing his shoulder. He looks nervously down at me.

I know I shouldn't goad him, but I can take a beating just fine. This is nothing I haven't faced before. "Yeah, Dylan, don't you get tired of beating up on little girls?"

His hand tightens on the pipe, and a brief flash of panic makes my heart race. Did I push him too far?

Then he relaxes, and tosses the pipe away with a smile.

He kneels down next to me, and grabs my chest roughly. "Little girl?" He says, groping hard enough to leave bruises. "Doesn't feel that way to me. Miley, well, we weren't actually going to do anything to her. You on the other hand, I've heard that you've got some experience."

Real fear squeezes my chest. Now _this_ has never happened.

"Say, boys." He says. "Isn't it funny how every person that I have talked to, says that they never _actually_ slept with Lily? They just didn't want to seem weak or something. I wander if you ever really have had your first time..." His hand travels down my body and I squirm hard to get away.

But my head hurts and when I moved to fast, my vision goes dark and I get very light headed.

I find myself panting to stay conscious.

The boy laughs. "There's really only one way to know for sure..." He says tugging at my jeans. Terror runs through me as he pops the button.

This has never happened before- what do I do?

"Hey- Dylan, you said we were just going to knock her around a bit; scare her!"

"Yeah, well, plans change." I struggle as hard as I can as he rips my shirt off me, and the cold air seems even harsher against my bare skin.

"No, I'm not doing this." One boy says defiantly, tightening his hands into fists.

"Then leave!" Dylan yells angrily, not taking his eyes off of me, and groping me harder in his anger. It hurts and blue and black marks are already showing stark against my pale skin.

The boys hesitate, then turn and run. And I'm alone with the sadistic madman.

"There." He murmurs, brushing his fingers over my cheek almost tenderly. "All alone. You are always there protecting your friends, but who's going to protect you?"

My lips tremble, despite my wishes, and tears stream from my eyes, the situation finally sinking in.

"Go to hell." I spit and he slaps my hard. My head spins and pain shoots through my skull. I must have blacked out because the next thing I know, I'm naked and he's pulling his pants down.

Some feeling seems to come back to me and I twist, trying to scramble to my feet, but he's there- kicking me in the stomach. The ground is hard, and cold, and it scrapes painfully along my bare skin.

"No, no, no." I murmur almost frantically, as he pushes me onto my back.

If I were at my full strength, and not half numb from the cold, and dizzy from a head injury, I would easily be able to beat him up and take off.

But my head throbs, and my vision is half dark, and he spreads my legs almost too easily.

And then something touches me, right there that has never been touched before, and desperation takes over. I struggle and kick and a scream tears from my throat, but he slaps me again and something hard enters me.

I scream again, through his muffling hand, but in pain this time.

It hurts, it hurt so, so bad that I wish he were still beating me up and hitting me over the head with that pipe. It hurts, and there is a tearing sensation and I just wish I would die right then.

"I knew it." He laughs, and continues to push into me. "You were totally a virgin!"

Then he pulls back and thrusts his hips forward and it's even worse than before. I claw at his chest, and try to push him away, but somehow, I'm not that strong girl that beat him up all those months ago.

I'm just a girl trapped under a rapist.

Every move he makes is agony, and it hurts so much to struggle, that I finally just stop resisting and lay in silence, sobbing into his hand.

This was not supposed to happen, things were supposed to be better. I was alive, and happy. Now I just want to die.

It hurts.

I think I black out a few times, as he grunts, and moans, and thrusts. His hands are hot like iron pokers left to sit in a fire, and his breath is rancid on my neck.

He marks me, laughing and moaning. Blood spills out onto the concrete from between my legs and it hurts.

Everything hurts.

Finally, he gives one last thrust as he cums.

He flips me almost like a dead weight, and pulls my butt back into him.

If my mind wasn't so focused on the pain, I would be humiliated. Like a dog. He's fucking me like a fucking dog.

He thrusts into me again, from a new direction, causing more pain in a new way. He grips my hips hard, digging his nails in enough to draw blood.

It's demeaning. I can feel my own blood running down my legs as he groans and cums again, but he keeps moving, thrusting, hurting me.

He cums again but doesn't stop. Why doesn't he stop?

"So tight." He's grunting. "So good."

I can feel him inside me and my stomach jolts, making me vomit.

His dick twitches, and he shudders, and he cums for a final time. He pulls out with a wet plop. He laughs, rolling me over to wipe his dick, covered in my blood, across my face, but I just sit there, staring up at the stars that were once so beautiful, crying silent tears.

Everything hurts.

"I think I'll take these as souvenirs." He says grabbing up all my clothes, including that stupid sweat shirt that I had come to get, but his voice sounds like it's coming from a tunnel.

He dresses himself, and walks away.

When his footsteps are gone, and I know for sure that he's not there, a loud sob rises from my chest, shaking my body and sending even more spasms of pain to my abdomen.

I pull myself, with great difficulty, to the wall of the school, bend my knees up to my chest burry my face into my knees, and sob.

I can't stop bawling, my body shuddering with the force, and even though it hurts so badly, I can't stop.

Everything hurts.

Vaguely, I think I hear my name, but my cries are too loud to tell.

A hand touches my shoulder, and I jerk, screaming loudly. No, not again- everything hurts!

The pain is enormous, but I scramble away from the hands, scraping my skin raw as I go. My tears are so think that I can't see his face, but I know he's there. The hands are large, a man's, but there are another pair too- the other boys decided to come back.

Terror seizes me, as I blindly try to get away from the hands.

"Lily- Lily!" I finally hear through my screams. "Lily, it's me!"

Soft hands, small hands, warm, not hot hands hold my bruised face gently. She wipes at my tears so softly that I could think that they are imaginary.

Another sob breaks through the night, one that is not my own, and I force myself to focus on the girl in front of me.

Long chestnut hair, and deep blue eyes. My Miley.

I fall into her arms sobbing and she rocks me oh so gently. But it's not the same, underneath her soft caressing hands, I feel Dylan's rough, torturous touch.

Another hand, larger and defiantly a man's, falls on my shoulder. I don't stop to think that it is gentle; I just know that it is a man's, and I scream, ripping myself away from my girlfriend.

"Shh, shh, shh." Miley coos softly, crawling back over to me. "It's just Oliver baby, it's just Oliver."

I twist Miley's shirt around my fingers like a vise. Oliver creeps closer, and I see that he has a sweater. He drapes it over my trembling body, but doesn't get any closer.

Everything hurts, and my head is throbbing fiercely.

Everything hurts. Everything goes dark.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Please review.**

**-Fantasy**


	8. Chapter 8

**So, this is the last chapter. Just a very very short Epilogue after this and the story is completely over. I hope you like it and please please please leave a review.**

* * *

_Every thought is a battle. Every breath is a war, and I don't think I'm winning anymore.- Unknown_

_I can't I can't I can't I can't I can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can'tI can't can't can't can't can't can't can't can't can't can't_

_I can't tell you what happened, can't think it, can't stop thinking about it, can't stop, why wont it stop_

_pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease_

_why wont it stop, please someone make it stop. please someone help me!_

_can't know can't know can't know can't know you can't know no one can know._

_Please God, let me die_

_-Scotty_

There voices sound above me, talking, whispering, frantic, scared, but I don't want to hear them. The water falling down on me is warm and my familiar tub surrounds me as I stare unseeingly at the pink water, gathering around my naked body before swirling down the drain. The water still has yet to turn clear and it feeling like I've been sitting here for hours.

Their voices, my friends' voices are right above me, but they don't quite acknowledge me. They are arguing, but I don't want to listen, I don't want to be here, I don't want to exist.

"We should have brought her straight to the doctors." Miley hisses at Oliver.

"She told us not to."

"Then we have to make her."

"You and I both know that we can't make Lily do anything, and frankly, I think dragging her somewhere will only traumatize her even more."

There is a tense silence. "We have to do something, Oliver, we can't just leave her like this, we can't just act like it never happened."

"Like what?!" My best friend yells. "Lily's been _raped_, Miley, and she hasn't moved, or talked, or even reacted since we got here, except _scream_ whenever someone touches her. I don't know. what. to. do."

I don't want to hear, I don't want to remember, I don't want to be here. My hand reaches forward and turns the water all the way hot. They don't notice as steam drifts off it and turns my skin an angry red.

I don't feel it; I want to feel it; I want to feel anything; I want to feel nothing... I don't want to remember.

Am I a bad person if I want to die?

My friends continue talking above me. They should just leave; I'm okay. I'm not even here right now, I don't feel anything.

"Oliver, the water!" Miley gasps and lunges froward to feel it, jerking her hand out of the spray a moment later.

The stream turns off.

"Lily, are you okay?" Miley asks kneeling down next to the tub rim, I see just the tip of her hair in the corner of my vision as I watch the swirl of pink water go down the drain. "Lily?" She sniffs, and that gets my attention.

Miley's crying? I turn my head to her, meeting her watery dark storm grey cloud eyes.

"I am fine." I say and turn my eyes to Olive who stands worriedly just behind my girlfriend. "Thank you for taking me home. You can go now."

My voice sounds strange- different and far away. Like it isn't my own.

I stand from the wet tub, dripping, and pull a dry towel around myself. The back up as I step out of the shower.

"Lily?" Miley shakily asks, laying a hand on my bare shoulder. Hand. Hand. _Hands_. Oh _God_.

I jerk away, flinching, and trip over a mat and into a wall. I slide down it as hands, _his hands_, flash across my eyes and feel them on my skin again.

Miley and Oliver exchange helpless looks.

...

1 week later

They haven't left me alone once, since it happened; they haven't trusted me since Oliver walked in on me with a bloody wrist.

I wasn't going to kill myself, I swear, but the memories just wont stop. When I close my eyes, I feel hit weight pressing down on me, I still feel him _inside_ me. He wont go away; why wont he go away?

Miley holds me, and rocks me, and whispers that it's going to me alright, but beneath her soft touch, are his bruising hands, under her gentle rocks, I feel him pounding into me from behind, forcing my face to the ground, and behind her comforting whispers, I hear his pleasure filled grunts and moaning of my name.

He's tainted everything that I am.

He's won.

I stare down at the digital pictures that I took after I fully realized what happened. Pictures of me standing naked in front of the mirror- pictures of my body covered in black and blue marks, _hand marks_, and of the bite on my neck that I'm certain will scar.

Miley and Oliver don't know about the pictures, I keep them in a shoebox under my bed, and if the did, they would take them away.

I need them, I need to remember. I don't want, _God_ do I not want to, but I _need_ to.

I hastily shove them back into the box and under my bed as the doorknob turns.

"Hey," Miley says walking in, a forced and obviously fake smile on her face, as she carries a steaming bowl of soup. "I have din- what are you doing on the ground?"

"Nothing." I say quickly and crawl onto my bed, wincing as my abdomen aches.

She carefully sets the bowl on a hot-pad my lap.

"Make sure you blow on it, it's still really ho-"

I spoon I bite into my mouth, burning the roof of it and my tongue, but I swallow. I don't care for the pain, I need it. It seems to be the only thing I'm good for.

Miley's grey eyes swirl as she frowns at me and stops the next bite from making it to my mouth. Her eyes water and I regret everything. All I ever wanted since meeting Miley, was to keep her safe and happy. Now I'm the one that's always making her cry.

She takes the soup away from me without a word and blows on the next spoonful, even touching it to her lips to make sure it's not hot, before letting me eat it.

I can't seem to meet her eyes as she feeds me like a little kid- like a _baby_.

When I'm done, she sets the empty dish on my desk and wraps her arms around me. I have to restrain a wince and let her hold me and try to keep my breathing even as my pulse races.

"Lily," she murmurs softly, "I don't know what to do. Please talk to me, tell me how to make it better."

This is different; it's never happened before. Just soft and kind words, encouraging words like 'everything is going to be all right,' are said. How do you make it better? You don't. you stop thinking, you make yourself numb to the pain, but she cries even more when I go into that comatose state, and I don't want her sad.

"I don't want you to be sad." I whisper.

"Then tell me how I can help," she begs. "I'll do anything."

I swallow hard. I should tell her, let her in, but I can't; she can't know. But she has to. What do I do?

I sit up, pulling away from her and reach under my pillow, pulling out my Journal, the one that was assigned to the whole class by our Creative Writing teacher. I hesitate before handing it to her and I leave the room before she can say a word.

I walk down the stairs and past my unconscious mother on the couch, grabbing a still half full bottle of vodka, and out the back door to sit on the steps. It's warm as I fumble with my secret hiding place under the step, and pull out a box of cigarets. If my girlfriend is going to be reading all my most deepest and darkest thoughts, I'm going to need strong to help me not think to much.

I tilt my head back, letting the liquid fire burn my throat, before lighting on of my cancer sticks. Miley wont be too happy when she finds me in a half hour.

I let the smoke fill my lungs and the alcohol fog my mind. I don't want to remember, but do; I want to forget, but I can't; I want to die, but I wont let myself. _She_ wont let me. Why does she stay with me? Why does Miley still care?

I am broken; I have nothing to give her now- I can't even stand it when she touches me!

I gulp in lungfuls of air, feeling as if I'm drowning, so I down the rest of the bottle and let my mind spin out and _remember_ as I trace the still visible bruises on my arms.

I can feel the concrete under me, scraping my skin raw; I can feel his rancid breath on my neck, the spinning of my head, my pounding heart, hear my muffled screams, and feel the total and pure _fear_ running through my icy veins.

He had taken the only thing still innocent about me, the only thing that left me pure.

And I have never hated someone some much before in my life, even more so than my father when he beat me, or my brother when he left me.

A hand touches my shoulder, and I jerk, panicking for one wild moment, before I catch sight of my girlfriend's agonized dark grey eyes (they haven't changed at all since that night). She holds my little journal tightly at her side.

"I didn't know." She says horsely and crushes me in a hug.

My breath catches. For a moment, a very delicious moment, her sent, her touch, her body, over power his. Her familiarity is comforting and I don't feel dirty.

"I will always be here," she promises, her breath fanning across my neck, nothing like his, and sends a pleasant shiver down my spine. "No matter what happen, or how much you suffer or push me away or not let me in, I will always be here. So will Oliver. So stop shutting us out and stop thinking me too weak to handle anything. I can help."

I blink, finally being able to loop my paralyzed arms around her waist and burry my head in her shoulder.

"Thank you." I slur, and then she pulls back with a terrifying glare.

"And what are you doing with these?" She hisses, seeming to have discovered my box of cigarettes. My lips twitch.

...

"Lily, you have to come back to school." I look up as Oliver walks into my bedroom and I look up from my makeup work.

"I will. Soon."

"No, Lily, you don't understand; Dylan keeps looking at Miley in a way that I don't like- we have to do something."

My hand freezes from my disinterested scribbling, and I slowly turn in my roll-y chair. My icy stare makes my best friend flinch as I rise.

_"He will not touch her."_ I hiss.

Oliver swallows. "What do we do?"

"Go to the police- something we should have done in the first place."

"Lily, we don't have any proof! All your injuries are pretty much healed." He frowns.

I bend down and rip the shoe box from under my bed. It wasn't originally going to be used as evidence, but now I'm glad that I'm some freak that needs to remember her bad happenings.

Admitting what happened would be really demeaning to me, a forever record of how messed up I am, but he has to be put away.

If he were to touch Miley, in anyway like he had done to me, I would honestly, swear to God, kill him. If he were to touch her, I would take pleasure in torturing him and watching him bleed out slowly.

And I don't think Miley would very much like to visit me sitting in a jail cell the rest of my life.

"When did you..." My best friend tails off as he flips through the pictures, hastily skipping over the ones of my privates that aren't so private anymore

"I think I'm some sort of masochist." I say wryly. "I like to remember the pain I've been in. Any way, I think that will work, and maybe after this, I'm thinking about therapy. What do you think?"

"I think you can certainly use it." He says, placing the lid back on the box. "Come on; I'll drive."

"Can we pick up Miley...? I want her to be with me."

"Of course."

* * *

**Thanks for reading guys.**

**-Fantasy**


	9. Epilogue

**I'm so sorry for making any of you who are still reading this wait, but this is it. It's really short, but it's just the epilogue.**

* * *

"Why are you here, Lily?" My therapist asks like every time I've come in this past month.

I briefly consider my usual sarcastic remark, that actually makes me feel a pang of pain, about how messed up I am. But these same conversations are getting tedious, and I'm not getting better; I want to get better.

"I don't want to hurt anymore," I say instead, fiddling with my hands in my lap. "I've been hurting all my life, but now I'm hurting,_ really_ hurting, someone that I love."

A smile twitches the mouth of the lady I never bothered to remember the name for.

"What's her name?" She asks, and I don't bother wondering how she knows that the person I love is female. Miley brings me here twice a week.

"Miley," I say, a real smile on my face at just thinking about her.

"And how are you hurting her?" My smile drops.

"...Every time she touches me... I feel _him._ I don't want that; when Miley touches me, I want to feel Miley. And she's scared for me. She gets so sad every time I flinch; she shouldn't have to deal with it... I know my outlook on everything is messed up, but I really do want to get better. I'm tired of being hurt and letting things hurt me. I want to get better, for Miley, but also for me."

She touches my hand, making me flinch and jerk my head up to face her soft, triumphant eyes.

"Then, I think, now we can start getting you to be able to move on- to heal now that I know that you really want to."

At her words, I relax into the couch ready to bare my soul to a complete stranger.

I don't want to hurt any more.

* * *

_What the devil is the point of surviving, going on living, when it's a drag?But you see, that's what people do- Alan Watts_

_I can live through this. I can survive._

_-Scotty_

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**Thanks so much for reading. Please, please, please let me know how you liked my story!**

**-Fantasy**


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